Knight to None
by FumeKnight
Summary: In the land of Remnant, there has been passed down a tale through centuries that dates to the creation of the four kingdoms, a knight roams the lands with no purpose nor objective established. Few have attempted to talk to him and many attacked him due to his mysterious nature. None survived against him in battle. (Powerful OC)
1. End of the Old Ages

Kiln of the First Flame

As Gwyn's empty vessel gave a haunting cry through the scorched walls and the ash beneath their feet, the Chosen Undead, equipped with the corrupted blade that once was held by Artorias himself, plunged at the old god of Sun, now reduced to a mere lord of Cinder and nothing more.

How the gods had fallen out of their once prime and grace, to now being nothing more than what the hollow in front of him was. His power, his kingdom and his old allies, gone as the sands of time have taken everything from him, but his son that remained at Anor Londo, keeping the illusion up to fool everyone that the sun still stood up, a lie to everyone.

The Chosen Undead knew of his existence and even made contact with the young deity, but never decided to intrude the chamber of the darkmoon leader. He did not serve him anymore, but that didn't meant that he left without a souvenir, for he was grated the miracle of the covenant. One that he rarely used out of spite, after knowing the trick behind Gwyndolin, masking the truth from everyone.

The once mighty god, fell to his knees as the knight took back his blade embedded in the opponents torso, before taking kicking the god away and taking a quick step back, weapon raised against this fool of a dying ember. His armor, weathered down from time and usage and fights, sported the same outfit as the first hollow that had saved him from imprisonment, the same armor that Oscar wore before succumbing to his injuries, the Elite Knight that believed until the very end.

Even if the hollow that stood at the Kiln did not believe in the duty that the knight held, he would make it come true as a means to carry his will until the end. His name will not be forgotten, his efforts not in vain, his might recognized.

Stumbling back to his feet, Gwyn lunged forward with his blade swinging a large arc, reacting quickly the Chosen Undead raised his left hand and a shield manifested in front of him with an eerie feeling. Despite what others would believe, he was not as honorable of hollow as others would believe, making contact with the dark wraiths and engaging in invading other hollows, stealing their humanity for himself, making sure that he would stay sane in this desolate land.

The dark shield took the attack straight on and as the old god attempted a second swing, the hollows hand swung to the side with the shield still on, redirecting the attack without effort of his behalf. Grabbing his sword with both his hands, he plunged it towards the deities torso once more, running forward before shoulder bashing him, releasing his blade before applying a giant leap forward, slashing with all his might as he did a frontal flip and brought his blade down, making his opponent sink onto the floor.

Not missing a beat, he took the blade sideways and spin in place to his left, attacking his opponent as he stood back up, fatally injuring him. Stumbling backwards and his knees threatening to fall over, the hollow walked forward and kicked Gwyn down with no emotions on his face, as he stabbed his foot and the deities hole from prior.

Countless people that were tricked and robbed of their dark age, because this foolish god was afraid of change, so to prolong the inevitable, he burnt himself up, sacrificed so many of his silver knights only to become black from the erupting flame, left his daughter to the hands of another god, cast away his firstborn and even locking away sickly people that had nowhere to go, even waging war against one of his companions because the creation of demons threatened the status quo.

Despite all of these things, the Chosen Undead did not mind, for it held no meaning to hold a grudge against the god, he only was afraid of the unknown, as everyone is, but to confine oneself and set a lie to everyone that he knew, was enough for his old undead blood to surge to action.

First it was Solaire that was delusional on finding his own sun, only for him to take solace on a bug that was attached to his face, because he respected the lord of cinders Gwyn to such lengths. Then it was the fire keepers, that their duty would be to live and die for the bonfires that all undead needed for a small respite before continuing their trek to another hellish day. After that, it was only a matter of letting the populace know of his achievements and lying directly at their core.

Even though he was able to defeat the dragons and seize their age of ancients, it meant very little to how much grieve and lost he inflicted to everyone.

Without a single word and postponing it any longer, the Chosen Undead rose his blade and plunged at the old gods heart. Fumbling around his impending doom, the lord of cinder rose his right hand and attempted to grab the knight with flame on his palm desperately. Grabbing a talisman from his pouch, the knight rose his left hand and a spear of lightening materialized with a brilliance of the sun itself from the talisman on his palm. He didn't need to take aim and simply plunged the electric spear down on his opponent at point blank.

It took but a moment and a scream of nothingness to make the old god to finally disappear from the knights sight. The kiln was empty,devoid of life except for himself. The bonfire awaited for someone to fuel it the energy that it needed for another hundred, maybe another thousand years worth of flame. Though that was the intended purpose, the knight only glared at the flickering flame.

He had a choice now. To link the fire for the curse to be gone for a few more centuries or to leave it be and walk away, letting another poor hollow to come and try his or her luck into linking the flame. In the end, they either die from the bursting of light or live on to be it's next protector. To let the land to spread the thinnest of it's influence of the age of fire or to allow the age of dark to take control as the serpent informed him.

Fate was a cruel thing, for his decision will dictate the world itself. A descendant of the furtive pygmy and the fleeting hope of the hollows, born to either destroy it or let it live. Though, there was one problem with him.

The chosen undead did not want to choose either. He'd rather let it all go and let someone else decide for him. He had fought long enough to want to leave everything behind, yet he was forced to decide. Forced to become the beacon to each faction, just as the residents of Oolacile had forced Manus, father of the abyss. The outcome afterwards was beyond anything the hollow has ever seen.

Not wanting to decide just yet, the undead that survived against all odds and challenges simply sat down in front of the bonfire, wanting just to rest his weary body and mind. His spirit was drained from the countless encounters and difficult foes that has pushed him past his limits again and again, even against the lord of cinder himself.

His decision was made from the point where he saw the towering form of that crossbreed. Even if she was safe in that painting that housed her presence and the rest of the abominations, the world would find a way to find her and slay her, either for her strength or for a show of dominance. After all, hollows, no humans, were a very sinful race.

The flame continued to flicker, it's time running out second by second, but there was no rush. For the knight will sacrifice himself, not because of the gods, not because of this age or spite to the next one, not even for others that have asked him to do so, but because he was tired of all of it.

His mind spent and soul exhausted, yet his scarred body still had enough strength to carry him. Perhaps he thought that when he would burn up, his body would be a fine vessel for the fire to control it, while his conscious fades away in the midst of the chaos.

As his right hand rose and hovered over the bonfire, it lightened itself up as the flames touched his arm and slowly started to burn him from body part to body part. As he was being incinerated from the first flame, no pain rose from it, he only felt relief from his burden to be released, he clutched his hands, bawling them into fists and for the first time in what seemed an eternity, he released a silent scream, making the flame erupt all around the kiln and in the middle of it all, was the worn out warrior, brightly glowing a magnificent yellow before his body was disappeared and all that remained of him was ash for the next in line. Not even his name was left behind, nor his old allies that were slain by him, only a ballad with no name.

The nameless song was born from a nameless hero in his selfish sacrifice, sung only by the only person to survive and remember him. The fire keeper from Firelink shrine that was returned to life by him, remained to guide other hollows that would come years after his departure before her timely demise, but even stories and songs would be lost in the ages and his decision would be forgotten as well.

* * *

Throne of Want

As Nashandra is banished to the clutches of death, the fragment of Manus dissipates leaving behind only her fragmented and corrupted soul for the Monarch to claim. Before him, stood the throne so close and closed. He had been led for a long time by the Emerald Herald, guiding him towards the tomb of King Vendrick, warning about the queen's elusive words and even asking for him to link the fire, yet there was something that he knew more than any hollow that has ever passed through these doors, more than any monarch before him.

And that involved the kiln in front of him. From conversations with Aldia, scholar of the first sin and from searching for clues, he has learned that to renounce the flame or to accept it were not two options, but one in the same. It mattered not his choice, for he had figured out the cycle, his eyes were open to the truth and that set his heart to cold.

His mind, open to the discoveries he had made and taking all the conversations he had with the people that he could consider his allies, held the answer to his choice. He would renounce the flame, for some other monarch will take the throne and the cycle would repeat yet again. It didn't matter to a hollow, but he was different, the Monarch has found a way to slip out of the cycle, though he didn't find a cure to his fate, he found an escape from it.

He had made his journey towards all the other monarchs that ruled their own land, the kings of kingdoms long distant and filled with tragedy. The first was the king of Vendrick, where he had slain the giant hollow as a way to release him from his fate, before tracing back his steps and acquiring his crown.

The second was on the blight of Shulva, where he had slain another fragment of Manus, Elana, before he made his way towards the ever present poison and slumbering dragon, Sinh. A lance impaled in the winged menace, releasing his toxins from his chest. After it's defeat, the monarch found nearby the crown of the sunken king, carrying a warmth and lingering power.

The third was on the soot and ash filled land of the old iron king, situated in Brume Tower. Towering and long chains bound the land and creation of iron soldiers, where flame and iron were used to ward away trespassers and scavengers. Though what set it apart from others, was another lingering soul of another fragment of Manus, Nadalia the idol of ash that kept anyone at bay and awaited her king, that would never return to his land ever again. Through the treacherous path, the Monarch found himself face to face against the Fume Knight, once a knight of King Vendrick, now a guardian to a queen that no longer has the strength to guide him. Once the mighty warrior fell, the crown was on the idols hands, almost caressing it with care, awaiting for her king to return. The Monarch took the crown, took the soul of the knight and took the last of the fragments of her soul before leaving.

His next destination laid on the outskirts of everything, surrounded by a freezing mist and even colder feeling, stood the great wall of Eleum Loyce. Surrounded by snow and ice, it's residents now changed due to prolonged exposure of the weather and cast away any semblance of fire. For this city was a way to fight back the growing Chaos in the heart of the city, the only sane resident was yet another fragment of Manus, yet this one had no intention to fight or to show hostility. In fact, she held fear, a dreaded one in fact. She informed the Monarch about her husband and king that had plunged himself against the seething fire beneath them and how she remained in the kingdom in hopes to continue her lords wishes and contain the fire that took her beloved away.

During his journey across the lands, this was the first time where the fragments did not engaged in ruthless violence of power and claim it, but to support the ruler instead as he had showed her kindness and patience. Not wanting to thread lightly against a mighty foe like the chaotic flame, he heeded the queen of the lands words and successfully scout out the remained, unaffected soldiers of Eleum Loyce, their knights awaiting for the day where they would plunge themselves into the flame to rescue and avenge their brothers and king.

Once they threw themselves into the monsters gullet, they immediately started their battle against the waves of corrupted and charred brothers, utilizing their newfound flames against the ice bearing old warriors. A grueling battle was partaken, and for the first time in the Monarchs journey, he had to keep a watchful eye on both his opponents and the soldiers that came with him, to ensure that their chances of success would increase.

Though three of the four soldiers that had came with him started to glow an ethereal light, filled with coldness and plunged themselves into the doors that his brethren came, halting their excessive assault against them and only one soldier remained with the Monarch as a massive door rose from the molten magma that seeped through the roots of an everlasting tree that hanged above them. From the farthest end of the platform that they had stood, two pillars projected themselves upwards and opened a dark portal, where the Ivory King, now burnt from years in the Chaos, walked forward, brandishing his great sword against the intruder and his once loyal knight.

The fight was truly a test of might, for the king had the strength of a thousand soldiers and a sword that could extend to a very large reach. He was the famed warrior and king that always went straight ahead of battle, make it for his people or for his kingdom. What seemed hours were mere minutes as the king had used all of his arsenal against the Monarch that learned as he continued to fight with his magic blade, the Blue Flame, releasing spell after spell and attacking when the chance was presented, swinging at the same pace as the Loyce Knight beside him, to inflict as many fatal wounds as they could.

With barely some life in their swings left, they had made the impossible and defeated the once renowned king as he fell to his knees and dissipating from their sight, finally being freed from the clutches of the flame. Seeing as his role finally came to an end and his brothers avenged, the knight beside the Monarch dissipated away from sight, returning to his rest as he was before being found. And the last of the crows of power were in his hands.

As he returned to Alsanna, informing her of her lord finally being released and so many of the knights freed from the flames grasp, she allowed the monarch to approach her, were she presented her soul to him as a reward, truth to herself, her soul carried the same corruption as her counterparts, yet hers seemed much more... tamed. A dark soul such as this, tamed by the caring of another being that did not mind her of being a child of the dark. It was a surprise to know that something like this would happen. To cling to a king that was kind was enough for her to change her.

Yet there was one last thing the Monarch had to do, something that he discovered on his way from his travels in Drangleic, and that was the pilgrims of dark, the covenant that wished to prod and find the secrets kept in the dark, in doing so, the monarch needed to set alight three vessels aflame, to draw out a being that kept itself hidden from everything. The Dark Lurker, an angel that used both flame and dark spells against the undead stranger, but with great persistence and careful planning, his spell soared true and ended the fiend and his copy in one fell swoop.

The leader of the covenant, was all too delight for the monarch to find the most purest of dark in his journey through the abyss, a very dark soul that enticed the old man to flicker his eyes to life, before rewarding him with his talisman, the Dragon Chime now resting on his hands.

Knowing that he had made many feats in his journey, only one being that kept a watchful eye on him, echoing with a distorted voice, a mass of what seemed flesh, fire and wood faded into view, with a tremble on the floor as fire scorched it in his wake.

"Many monarchs have come and gone. One drowned in poison, another succumbed to flame, still another slumbers in the realm of ice. Not one of them stood here as you do. Now, you conqueror of adversities... Give us your answer."

The battle that followed was bittersweet at best. The Monarch had to slain the being that gave him so much insight, so much history concerning the world and the forces at play, yet an answer needed to be presented for him to be satisfied. Releasing a Soul Spear from his sword, the undead rushed forward as the flames died down, making Aldia susceptible to his attempts to injure him, or a way to direct the pain too, for the blob moaned in anguish every move it took to gather strength and release roots from his body or power for his flames.

Some flames struck the Monarch, some roots grazed and knocked him down, but his armor, once worn by Alva himself, took the blunt force and ushered him to push forward, enchanted blade with magic on hand and the will to finish this once and for all.

Then, with a quick and decisive thrust, Aldia had received enough, his body released a blinding yellow light before leaving the sight of the undead. He was alone, yet the scholar's voice still resonated in the room, the throne finally open to receive his new vessel to burn and the giants awaiting for the the warrior to approach his rightful place.

"I lost everything, but remained here, patiently. The throne will certainly receive you. But the question remains... What do you want, truly? Light? Dark? Or something else entirely..."

It was a fair question. What did the Monarch truly want? Was he truly inclined for the light of the flame? Or the embrace of the Dark? He came to this land in an effort to find a cure for his curse, yet the only thing that he received was a mean to treat the symptoms of hollowing. He was still bounded by the curse, where he would still die, but not suffer anymore of his hollow state, thanks to King Vendrick restoring the power of the crowns. The Monarch would live for an ample amount of time, not aging nor suffer the maddening state. What did he want? Want... How ironic. It was the first sin of the god of sunlight, now it was presented to the only being that could escape his imminent fate. How it repeats.

The answer was already answered as the monarch renounced the throne altogether and walked away from it. He did not need flame nor the dark, someone else can take that mantle, that throne that was destined for him. His sights were set to something much more than that. The unknown awaited him as he looked at the pillars of flames from the path that he took and his steps echoing through the darkness.

"There is no Path." Aldia's voice resonated once more towards the undead. "Beyond the scope of light, beyond the reach of dark... What could possibly await us?" The monarch bawls his fist as he marches forward. "And yet, we seek it, insatiably... Such is our fate."

The scholar spoke the truth as the undead understood the words behind it, for there would be a way to escape this curse, the answer simply hasn't appeared as of yet, though now time was on their side. The fire on the pillars gave the last of their strength before extinguishing themselves, leaving the darkness to consume the path and the Monarch to disappear into the dark. Only a small light was present in that shadow, the ember of the strongest undead fading and remained no longer.

* * *

Kiln of the First Flame

The world has congregated to the point that old kingdoms lay on top of each other with the new ones, every town, village and cathedral have united into a single land, one filled with only ash and void of life. The only telltale of it was on the weapons that lay stuck on the soot and ash, no longer dirt remained for them to rust away nor the sky let a single tear fall down. Only a blocked sun that resembled the dark sign of humanity, of mankind.

The Ashen one, Champion of Ash and the true lord of Ember took in the sight of the end of the world. His body has been mercilessly carrying his undying will, his mind perturbed by the sights and repulsion that he has saw. He has been to a world hidden in a fragment of a painting and in the distance where he found the edge of the world, guarding one of Gwyn's daughters. He has learned about many things and experienced more than he would've liked, not to mention... How the one knight, a slave no less, succumbed to the one soul that humans were born from in it's full glory, the Dark Soul.

He had slain his once ally and friend, for his power and madness had reached the breaking point, as he foresaw before turning into a beast... Yes, that old slave knight, that has lived on beyond every age and every cycle, just to find the last part of the blackened soul, to deliver only to his lady. He knew the risks and he knew that he was no champion to stave away the it's corruption.

Countless battles fought, allies were forever gone in the annals of history, deities vanquished from an era long ago, dragons laid to rest, old soldiers that gave up their arms, gods that fled away, a black ember snuffled out with her father and a painter that still sees hope in a bleak future. All of it seemed so long, long ago, in this ash covered land, yet his duty still needed to be fulfilled.

Prying away his eyes from his burning form, the Ashen one, slowly moved his tired and scarred body up the hill, where the kiln waited for him and so the lords from the past that have adopted a new form altogether. A being with a coiled sword, sitting down in front of a bonfire, kept watch on the flickering flame, it's energy spent after so many times had passed, his armor strapped together by the bits and pieces from the lords before and the banner of Lothric proudly displaying to anyone that looked at him.

The Ashen One, sporting the armor of Sir Vilhelm, giving respect to the warrior that fought for what he believed was right. Of course, he could've donned the armor of Gael, but that would be disrespectful to the warrior that had beaten the sands of time, at the edge of the world, with a purpose to follow. The weapon at his right hand was Gael's sword, heavily chipped away and stained with the blood of countless, using the weapon of his once ally is an homage to him, for he was no champion, but at the very end he acted like one splendidly. On his left hand a flame flickered, one that was once from a pyromancer and through his journey he has learned many spells to improve his craft. Last on his back sat the only blade that has aided him in the battle against against Yhorm, and used by his late friend, Siegward of Catarina, the Storm Ruler. Though it was a fragile blade, it did not mean that it was weak, far from it, it was good enough for so long before turning his attention to Gael's weapon and even though it out performed the bane of the giants, he kept it around as a memory for him to clutch.

His journey was not done yet, his will not shattered by the tremendous effort that he ensured towards the land. He had fought countless warriors, some hollowed, some maddened, some brave, others cowards, some were cunning, some repent, some gave the last of their life in their purpose, some gave a sacrifice too great and some that were next to him the whole way, awaiting him as he returned with dirt on his feet, sweat and blood of his own and weapon chipped after innumerable battles.

His embered self would not let everything that he has sacrificed to be in vain, even after being consumed and discarded as a failure, he will end this age once and for all, for all the lost souls to be released and his journey to be completed. He made sure that he delivered the blood of the Dark Soul, so that Gael's mission would finally be done and his mortal soul would rest.

It was time for the very last fight of a tired warrior. He took took the first step and continued to walk forward with determination as high as the heavens, his fire burning brightly in his eyes, his flame quivering for action and his great sword wanting to end it for good.

Feeling the vibrations in the ash, the amalgamation of the lords of cinder stood up from his resting place, drawing his coiled blade from it's resting place, the bonfire of the First Flame, light up with flames as he charged his way towards the Champion of Ash, his body telling it to test the trespasser to see if he could give the flame new life or to bring the dark finally to this world.

The Soul of Cinders attacked first, slashing with precise arcs, gathering the knowledge of his swordsmanship from the Abyss Watchers in a fiery blaze. With reflexes faster than anything a human would be able to do, the Ashen One rolled under the attack and gave a quick thrust before leaping out of the way, with his hand ablaze, he released an orb of magma from his hand, hitting his target without skipping a bit. The warrior of Lords, not impressed by his power, gave four more quick swings, only one was able to reach the Champion.

Feeling as though his opponent being too quick witted, the Soul of Cinder released a confounding flame towards his sword, stretching it far, as if it were a spear. Changing his style from before to a more suitable one, mainly from a spear man.

This surprised the Ashen One, yet he had fought those types well enough to not be careless with the Soul of Cinder. Charging from one spot to another in an attempt to ram his blade into the torso of his enemy, only to miss his chances, before putting his stance back and spinning in place, earning two bone crushing hits on the warriors arm and torso, forcing him to skid a few feet away from him, enough time to release the same energy and change his blade once more.

A third style was presented, this one that of a caster, summoning seven spheres of soul to lie and wait behind him. Stumbling back to his feet, the warrior charged forward as a spell was released at the same time, a spear of blue light rushed at him, only grazing his helmet for the slightest touch, before needing to dodge the hovering projectiles heading his way for approaching too close to their caster.

The knowledge of Lothric, passed down to the Soul of cinders, rushed towards the staff as power was being sent to the catalyst, gathering it's strength to release a wave of immeasurable power, only for it to realize that his opponent had reached his back, thrusting the great sword and slashing anyway that he could to make the amalgamation fall down. The sound change ringed once more, this one making the Lord much more athletic, flipping backwards to gain distance, his blade took a more saber form and his left hand flickered with flame.

Taking his stance and gauging his distance against his opponent, the Ashen One took a more cautious stance, for anyone with a saber type meant that they were faster with their swings, something that made him be in a disadvantage against due to weapon choice.

Noticing the change of attitude from his opponent, the Soul of Cinder took the time granted to himself to amass ominous chaotic energy on his left hand before slapping it to his chest. His body radiated with the hidden power that held inside of him, granting him strength at little cost as he ran forward with his blade ready to strike.

Realizing that his enemy just used Power Within, the pyromancy from an age bygone, made the warrior of Ash much more reluctant to fight as boldly as he did before. Instead, he opted to only strike when he could without being greedy, dodging the quick slashes from his opponent before giving a swing of his and leaping back. One strike was strong enough to make his enemy flinch and grabbing that opportunity that was given to him, he leap into the air and brought his sword down in an arc, hitting his knee on the ash and soot to cushion his fall and the blade to cut on the left shoulder of the Soul of Cinder, noting that his slash wasn't enough, he quickly jumped backwards and flung himself forward like an animal and embedded the blade through the chest of his adversary.

Figuring that he had finally defeated the congregation of souls, he let himself take a few deep breaths as his body had put more effort than what he had done before. This time however, his enemy had not fallen yet and surprised him as his body rose, ignoring the blade stuck to where his heart would be, flames erupting from his body as he placed his blade in both hands and released a burst of flame and an unknown power from within, blowing away the Champion of Ash and his great sword as well, skidding a few yards away, hitting a few weapons from long ago and a stone of hardened ash.

Kneeling on the ash and hurt from the explosion, he glared at the new form that his opponent took. Blade extended with flames covering it all around, his stance different to what he's used to and lightning rushing from his left hand. No Lord of Cinder that he fought had that power of lightning... So who was this one supposed to be? He gave his question in his mind, yet no matter how much he probed, nothing came up, though a distinct feeling was felt as he stared up, one that made him blink twice. This Lord was a fragment of someone from long ago, someone that was as old and powerful at it's prime like the previous lords, maybe even more than them.

Reaching for his blade, he stabbed the ground as leverage and let his light self burn ever so slightly more as he concentrated on the flame on his left hand, before bringing down on the ground, a wave of black flame unleashed from his grasp, and found it's way to the Soul of Cinder, but barely felt from the blow, either by casting the pain aside or not being able too.

With his elongated coiled sword at his side, the amalgamation made quick untamed steps after his opponent, before he jumped to the air and made a large swing, catching the Ashen One by surprised, before kicking him away for a bit and putting himself in a stance that sent a dangerous feeling to his opponent. What happened next was four heavy flaming strikes that could reach at an otherworldly length, lifting the Champion in the air, before stabbing the ground and releasing a powerful blast, sending him skidding further than before, with wounds far too deep to close now. To a normal human or hollow that would've ended the fight right there, but the the will inside the Champion of Ash was stronger than most.

With a shaky hand, he pushed himself up, tired and battered from around the Kiln, now the stage of an arena from countless battles. Standing up in a crouching position, he began a jog before evolving into a sprint, his armor clanking and his cloak fluttering from the speed. Not wanting to let him have a break, the Soul of Cinder raised his hand, a spear of lightning sitting on his palm before throwing it at him, making him roll to the side to avoid direct contact from it, then another was released seconds later and then a third one. Finally, a forth one was materialized, bigger and longer than the ones before, the amalgamation took time before throwing it at the sky. This confused the Ashen One before he heard the chirping of a dozen birds, it alarmed him as he looked up and saw the cause, two dozen lightning spears were coming close to him.

His instincts yelled at him to run the other direction as fast as he could, but not wanting to stop his momentum, the Champion of Ash continued forward, fearless in his action and avoiding the spears as he ran forward, avoiding another spear from his enemy to hit him at point blank. He opened his stance and gave two quick swings from both sides before jumping over the Lords of Cinder with his knee hitting the ground and crouching low, as he tried to grab him with a flaming palm. Being so close, he gambled his luck and released from his hand a black flame that exploded as it touched the air, before releasing the biggest ball of flame there ever existed, the remnants of the old Demon King roaring as it hit it's mark, making his opponent fall to one knee.

An opportunity was presented and one he wouldn't want to waste as he lashed out at his enemy, Gael's great sword swinging in large arcs, trying to end the battle as quickly as he could in that time frame, but at the last second he was grabbed by the flaming hand as he hoisted the ash failure up with only one arm. Trashing under the tight grip to be released, he was able to attack the chest and neck in a desperate attempt to let him go, but it was for naught before he was blasted away with another explosion, though this one was weaker in comparison with the other one.

Looking up, the Ashen one looked at his opponent that seemed to take longer to reach him than before, his steps were heavier, his body laced with wounds all around and the flames began to dim away. His attacks were connecting and his enemies knees started to tremble as his, he was close, but he needed to land a good strike, to finish this onslaught of a battle between wills and experience. Gael's rusty sword was behind him body, which meant that if he had to get it, he was open to an attack from behind. He stood up, albeit weakly and grabbed the great sword from his back, the Storm Ruler. Bruised and shaking, the Ashen One took a stance as winds started to rush towards the blade, as if a storm was coming from the sword itself.

Sensing the danger from his opponents stance, the Soul of Cinder rushed forward as quick as it was able to, cutting the distance in half in mere seconds, it was barely enough time for the storm to sit on the blade as he continued to wait for his enemy to get close enough to take the full blunt of the art. It was nerve wrecking and reckless from his part, but truth be told, he was hanging by a thread and moving wasn't an option anymore or else he'll simply fall down to his knees.

As if the world came in slow motion from his point of view, the Ashen One brought his sword down, releasing a shock wave at his tall, fiery opponent, exploding at contact point. They were both blown back, with the Champion of Ash still standing with only a sliver of strength, his foot tapping at Gael's sword, resting for his new master to reach it. The Soul of Cinder, had skidded a few feet as well, but taking the attack head on made it fall to it's knees, giving the last chance that the Ashen One needed to finish the fight once and for all. Drawing with whatever strength in his body held and a will so strong that made his ember form to flourish in a blooming hidden energy, he took the blade at his feet with his right hand and the Storm ruler with his left, kicking the ash below his feet and having both swords to his sides as he ran forward. With a silent scream, the Ash warrior drove both blades through the armor of the Soul of Cinder.

With a tired scream from the congregation of souls, finally being laid to rest, the coiled sword at his hand fell over and disappeared before reappearing at the bonfire of the First Flame. The Soul of Cinder, resigned from his post after so long, dissipated his form slowly as he hung his head in a familiar action. As he raised his head up towards the curse sign in the sky, he disappeared leaving behind his soul for the claiming of the Ashen One.

Panting and breathing ragged breaths, the unkindled one, took a moment to process it through his tired mind. He fought and won, but this tough fight meant much more than anything from before, it meant that he passed the test to do what he wished with the remains of the First Flame. He rose to his feet with his shaky legs, sheathing his Storm Ruler on his back as he used Gael's sword as support. He trudged his way towards the bonfire, looking at the dim flame, reduced to a mere, tiny ember, trying to cling to it's life and begging to either put it out of his misery or to add more fuel to a dying world.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw a white summon sign, upon closure inspection, it was from the Fire Keeper from Firelink Shrine. The Ashen One had done more than enough, this world had lived in a perpetual state for too long. He extended his hand towards the sign and summoned his aid and caretaker since the beginning of his tough and ruthless journey. She took a moment to gather her surroundings before presenting a very small smile to the knight, before looking at the flame between them.

Taking slow steps from the ash beneath them, she knelled down the bonfire and slowly retrieved the flame with her cupped hands, letting ash that she collected to fall from her grasp. She brought the flame to her chest as the world slowly started to black out. The Unkindled stood by, still using his blade to support his weight.

"The First Flame quickly fades. Darkness will shortly settle." She took a small pause the the flame flickered on her hands and turned smaller and smaller. "...But one day, tiny flames will dance across the darkness. Like embers linked from lords passed." She remained silent as the world turned to dark, just a she said before, the light extinguishing ever so quickly as everything went to black. Only the embers of the unkindled remained as his light faded as well.

"Ashen One, hearest thou my voice still?" She asked hopefully to him, but no answer came back. The knight disappeared as the fire did as well, leaving only behind a tiny ember to fly by, that showed that he stood there at one point.

* * *

True to the words spoken by the Fire Keeper, flames did dance across the darkness of the world, but it took a considerable amount of time for them to reach each other. Although, these flames were very different from one another. One was a deep yellow, burning a burning light like no other has ever lit before. One was a deep black, escaping from it's grasp a white light to signify it's presence. The last one was a crimson ember, so weak but burning a durable flame.

Once these flames came in contact with one another, they started to take form, fusing with each other in a single flame brighter than the darkness that they had encompassed them. However, it didn't stay in a single flame, for it soon evolved into a body, slightly bigger than that of a human. Soon, the body manifested armor that seemed to melt into play from the three flames.

Alva's, Elite Knights and Vilhelm's armors became one, leaving behind traces of themselves. The helm of the Elite Knight, with Alva's visor, only smaller to fit the small helmet, and turned black from Vilhelm's color. Elite Knights armor, with Alva's scarf hanging from his right side and cloth hanging by the waist, both grey instead of red, it's metal plate on his torso, now turned black, seen under the blue coat, now an onyx color, on the back a grey cape sat resting.

The leggings consisted of Vilhelm's leg plates, Elite Knights knee protectors and Alva's leather boots, all a charcoal color. The leather gauntlet on the right hand remained from the Elite Knight armor, the left arm still held the shoulder piece of Alva's armor and the left gauntlet rested Vilhelms.

From the darkness of the armor, golden linen started to show as inscriptions were slowly etched very faintly on the armor and a drawing on both cloths carrying the dark sign and the blinding sun, united.

Resting on the left hand was the Pyromancy Flame, now combined with the Dark Hand, effectively making good use for flames or a shield to be erected at the ready.

On his back, once three different chipped weapons, now fused into one. The Storm Ruler, Gael's Great Sword and the Abyss Great Sword, turned into one, their powers merging into one blade, now repaired using bits and pieces from their counterparts to show a sharp great sword, with intricate symbols of the wolf, blade that looked chipped but it was an illusion to it's sharpness and arc at the end with symbols of that of a storm. The base of the blade held red, to remind a small part of Gael is someway possible.

On his waist, sheathed on his left was the Blue Flame sheathed, grown to become a long sword than it's older counterpart. Next to the sheathed blade laid in rest the Dragon Chime, the colors inverted, the dragon a golden color while the chime was an obsidian tone.

The face beneath the helmet began to form, revealing deep orange eyes, the face of a young adult rested with a scar passing through his right eye, the line ran down to his right cheek, with a few more at the edges of his face. Hair as black as the night that was just short to not the helmet tangle it in his future adventures.

The armored body fell down onto the floor with no sound, staying knelled down as the flames outside started to dim in intensity. A vessel was created using only the strongest of individuals from ages long ago. The flame was their souls, an amalgamation of their strongest points, for they did not wish to fade away into nothingness. The Chosen Undead, with a body that could withstand even the most powerful of attacks. The Undead Monarch, with intelligence and a mind to look beyond the scope of light and the reach of darkness. And finally, the Unkindled Ash, with a will stronger than a black knight to stand against his strongest of foes.

Each of them had a quality to them and now, after the Age of Dark started to pass, their fragments united to a single being. Their memories, their knowledge and experience, from first hand or watching were integrated in their new body. However, the time was not yet for them to wake up. The new being stood in their position, sleeping until the day they would gather enough strength to leave their ashen tomb and see how the world had changed through the Ages.

Lordran, Drangleic and Lothric... All of the kingdoms have passed by through the annals of history. Now the world has changed all together, reborn from it's constant abuse from the First Flame and the dark abyss from being robbed of their own time. Now the world was named Remnant and four kingdoms were yet to be raised, yet the threatening of the Grimm was ever present.

The knight, will rise again in due time.


	2. Green Axes (I)

Had to separate this chapter into two, so if you are wondering why I posted two chapters at once, that's the reason. Enjoy the chapters.

* * *

Vale: 1000 years prior the Great War

Knelt in complete silence and darkness in the middle of the room, was the sleeping knight. Under his feet lay ash all around him, filled with stalactites and stalagmites on the rocky terrain around him, thousands of years has passed since the creation of the vessel with the unification of the three souls, solidifying the ash around him. Air was filtrated through the many paths that reached his resting, undisturbed chamber. The remains of the Kiln of the First Flame were etched on the walls, arcing around the room before being filled with a rocky roof.

Time almost stood still in that chamber, not a motion or an action was took by its only occupant as the armored form collected dust. The only signal to say that passed would've been the sound of wind passing through the cracks in the walls, slightly fluttering the grey cape behind the knights back and his darkened coat. His scarf and cloth every time would only move once or twice the days that passed thanks to their whistling friend.

But one day, a tremor occurred, normally the tremors would of been of a small scale, but this one had enough force to make a portion of the roof collapse, and for the first time since the Age of Fire had been put to rest so long ago and the darkness had subsided, light shined down to the chamber, hitting the dark knight that still knelled on the ground. The chirping of birds and the sound of ruffling leaves traveled to his ears, stirring him from his slumber, opening his orange eyes from a dream that lasted thousands of years.

His head slowly looked up towards the light that shone at him, letting dust and some ash to leave his stilled form. He took his time to simply admire the light that came towards him from that collapsed roof, as if he was enlightened and delighted to see something much more alive than the bleakness that he has experienced for so long.

When he rose to his full height and walked forward, the dust that settled on him came undone and scattered from each step that he took towards the light, climbing over the toppled rocks reaching the newly made entrance.

What he saw before him was a forest filled with life, the sky as blue as a lake with clouds that permeated the landscape and mountains that seemed to stretch to touch the clouds above. The animals that he could see, moved either in groups and took into hiding, the tremor from before had scared them and put them in alert, in case another one would come.

The helmet moved slightly side to side, taking in the view as the knight was astounded of the scenery in front of him. He thought that after the dark took it's rightful place then everything would fade, but it turned out that everything simply changed, for better or worse it didn't matter. The world was now in a state of balance, one where life flourished and not the one that he remembered in his adventures...

He blinked his eyes as he looked down at his hands, something was different to him. His attire wasn't the same as he remembered, not to mention the blade on his back and on his waist and hip, the chime at his side and the small flame on his left gauntlet. Yet... he was already familiarized with it oddly enough, as if he was completely aware of his equipment and what they could do.

He remembered the spells that he could cast, the pyromancies that he could erupt, the techniques that he learned along the way, the familiar weight on his weapons, the knowledge of all the story that was told, the numerous battles that he had fought, the victories that he won, the failures that he endured and the many allies that he made during his time, yet his memories didn't seemed his own nor his experiences that he had. As if someone else had bestowed to him that knowledge, he understood it but he didn't know how it was possible.

Then the words of the Fire Keeper rang in his head, the dancing flames... Was he those flames that took shape? Like how the Lords souls took shape as his last opponent? This made him question himself, clenching his hands. He didn't had the answers, only questions and nobody to provide him any guidance. Three voices thought in his head, all his and came to the conclusion that for now, he would need to find some form of civilization or someone to inform what age he was in.

He still couldn't quite believe it as he jumped down from his ashen tomb to the dirt below, it was a fall from twenty feet high yet he didn't feel any pain on his shins. His body had become more resilient he thought as he looked up on the sky, finding the sun he decided to head East, it seemed that it rose up not too long ago,giving him some direction.

While he moved, his habit of looking around for possible threats never left him, often moving his head side to side to look for ambushes or for the lookout for enemies that would be a threat to him. Learning the hard way, he found it much more natural to keep an eye out than to casually stroll around a new land, he would never know when a demon or knight would spot him while he was distracted by something else.

Not wanting to stumble on his response to take out his weapon, he unsheathed his Blue Flame from it's elegant scabbard, which was a dark blue in body with golden lines that gave a royal feel to it. The sword now release from it's resting place, felt at peace at the familiar hand of his master, the silver shone as light reflected off the blade, the grip made of an obsidian type of material, easy to grab the handle and the pommel decorated with golden lines that reached the weapons cross guard. A beautiful weapon made with the intention to channel ones power like a staff while also being an effective tool for combat.

During his trek through the forest, he could almost sense the gaze of the animals as he walked by, his soft steps making his armor clanking through the lush of the woods, bearing a healthy green tone that he wasn't used to. This age to have so much life made the knight feel out of place, for he had only known of the bleakness of the world and how looming gloom it would be. This was the complete opposite and he was glad it would turned out this way, as it was a testament that his sacrifice wasn't in vain.

He stopped below a tree as leaves fell down on him, resting the blade at his side, he raised his left hand cupping a few of them that fell onto his hand, the flame not daring to set it alight without him focusing on it. The small act of the foliage falling down on him with the help of the gentle breeze made him appreciate the moment. The sounds, the light, the spectacle... It was all memorizing to the knight. This was life taken a more palpable form, life that haven't bloomed since a long time ago.

His trance was unfortunately cut short as a scream echoed through the forest that he walked. Instantly, he put his long sword up and pointed towards where he thought where the sound came from. Another scream was shouted louder than before, it was coming in his direction, but hearing it again made it sound as the owner felt distressed.

He perked his eyes through his visor and saw at the distance, three humans running through the field ahead of him, with a pack of monsters that he could only think were spawns of the abyss. Creatures that ran on all fours with bone like masks and some limbs with some spots that the bone acted as armor. Though the red eyes were a sure tell for him to know that it was somehow related to that dark of the abyss. Now preying on the humans that wore simple cloth to cover themselves, a flimsy bow and primal spears, which was odd for him.

Normally, he'd just let them run and be killed, to not attract attention to himself, it would be the natural response to it. They would be hunted because of their inability to fight back, either by lack of experience or the will to do so. However, this is a new age, a new world that had been reborn. If by some chance, any at all that they may be important in the future, then he had learned nothing in his adventure during those times and become ignorant to what's important. Life is something to treasure, what they have, should not be stripped for what they were given.

* * *

The three humans that ran for their lives cursed their luck. Leaving their tribe early morning to hunt for some food and exploring more of the land, possibly to find a river for their daily needs and hydration for their small community.

They armed themselves with weapons that they put together, by the advice of their peers that have hunted in these parts for two decades already. Yet nothing could prepare them for an encounter of a pack of beowolves, all 6 of them growling and snarling as they took chance to their fleeing prey and natural enemy. They were not obliged to feast, yet their instincts told them to eradicate these lesser beings.

As the chase continued, they found themselves at the edge of a mountain which they were familiar with. They simply needed to follow the path to the left to seek cover with their tribe. More people meant that they could deal with the creatures of darkness more easily, but at the same time at the cost of some lives. Even though they made a grand dash, they were still more than a few ways away from their home and soon, 2 more beowolves appeared and then the pack caught them in a pincer attack, surrounding them almost in a spiders web weaved by their tactics.

The humans drew their weapons up, to threaten anyway possible the beasts to harm them. The only female of the group carrying the flimsy bow, let loose two weak arrows at random, only for them the bounce at their armored opponents, not to mention the poor quality of the projectiles. Then one of the males tried their luck against one of them, effectively hitting one through their mask and hitting their eye. A cry of despair came from the beast as he put his claw backwards and swiped at the one that committed the felony, leaving behind a gash on the males chest before ramming against him, as one of the spikes embedded against the humans right arm, before quickly throwing him away. He was shoved against the rocky wall behind him, griping his shoulder from excruciating the pain and a fleeting attempt to stop the bleeding.

The rest of the humans, in a panic came closer to their fallen comrade and bundled together, desperately trying to save him and themselves. They clung to the hope that they were going to escape this unfortunate events that took today and were determined to not die. The other man took a more cautious approach, poking every so often the beasts to make them stay away, until one of them bite down on the wooden pole with their strong jaws, making a point that they crude weapons were no match to them.

As they closed in for the kill, they prepared to leap forward, making their stance low, growling with their motivation clear and readying the pounce. Releasing a war cry from the woman with her fears and tension peaked, small tears and sweat rolled down her face onto the floor, as well as her blood that came from her hand as the string drilled inside her flesh.

As two beasts jumped at the three humans, the male that wasn't injured closed his eyes, the one on the floor gasped for air with a pained expression and the woman widened her eyes at their imminent fall. Everything came in slow motion through their eyes as the beast slowly made it's way in the air, it's jaws already open to puncture their skin and flesh. The wind ruffled the leaves, their sound muffled with their spirit tense and fallen heart.

Even though death had his hand on their shoulders, someone intervened with his reaping. A bright blue blue struck against the offspring of the dark to the side, a spear of a sheer magnitude thrust itself against it and etched itself on a tree, incapacitating and ending the beast in one fell swoop. Upon contact with the tree, it scattered in a thousand shards into the wind.

The humans with their eyes open, slowly looked to the side to see the Grimm dead and slumping down to the ground, slowly vanishing into smoke towards the sky. The essence of the once blue spear still lingered for a moment before following in nature with it's large solid fragments. Their stupor were broken when the pack in front of them snarled and growled towards the being that ended their brother in arms. Half kept a steady gaze on their meal the other looked at their offender.

In between two high trees, there stood a warrior like they have never saw before in their short lives. Clad with black steel and cloth out of this world with a symbol as foreign as anything they have ever seen, pointing his silver sword at the black creatures as blue particles came out of the blade, where the spear probably originated from. His left hand burned with a flame that they thought it kept hurting him, from prior experiences, yet he did not falter or trembled at the pain. Behind his back lay the longest weapon that they have ever laid their eyes on, it was sharp and it looked it was chipped, yet at further inspection it was suppose to look like that. Their suppose helper was oddly larger than they were, which surprised them, if anything from his attire or his showing up to rescue them.

The young beowolves rushed ahead to bite down and end this intruder to their territory, but as the three of them lunged at him, they were instantly cut down. The blade surrounded itself with blue energy before releasing it in an extended form, their bodies were cut in half, either falling to the side or close to the dark knight. With a quick swipe, the energy around the blade dissipated in an instant in similar manner as before.

The humans were in awe at the being that ended their enemy, three of them at that in a single attack, yet their problems were yet to be resolved as the Grimm that kept an eye on them drew closer to them in a threatening stance, as each step made the earth beneath them thud violently. The woman tried to grab another arrow, but her makeshift quiver was empty as she and her friend tried to somehow make themselves bigger in a way to make them to think if it was a good idea to fight someone that was bigger than them to protect their wounded comrade. Their efforts didn't held positive results as both of them were swiped away, one gash on her arm and her friend only a bruise against their other friend.

Hearing rushing clanking steps from behind the monsters, the knight from before used their left shoulder guard to bash the fiends away before putting himself in between the humans and their enemy. This elicit a scream of frustration from the beasts as they think that this warrior took their meal for himself, scaring the wildlife away and frightening the wounded humans.

He had his sword raised while his burning hand was at his side ready to be used should the need arise, his legs set apart to stay low and his head focused on them. He took careful and short steps as he drew closer to them, while the beasts spread apart to either side, eyeing their foe for any sudden movements. He raised his left hand over to the left, keeping an eye for the monsters that tried to do a quick swipe. But the growl on his right made him instinctively turn to the sound and took a step back, letting the fiend pass by him, it's claw barely grazing his ebony helmet. Grabbing his sword with both hands, the plunged the blade right through the attacking enemies abdomen in an crescent arc, hitting where it's heart might be.

Not wasting time on the monsters death, he recoiled his right leg and kicked away the second attacker from behind the first, earning a yelp from it's distorted voice. Quickly, he took back his blade and swing it once, only grazing the beowolf on his left. Taking it as a sign that this human was much more attentive and stronger than the humans from before, it took a few heavy steps back, letting it's comrade taking the lead to fight this unusual foe.

The humans, still trying to process what was going on, were baffled that their sworn enemies were starting to become more cautious with the towering stranger. If it wasn't for the painful grunt from their more severely wounded friend, they'd still be watching their helper and the fight, however what mattered first was the life of their friend and they started to do whatever they could to stop the bleeding, by first ripping some of their own cloth to wrapping his wounds. The woman was the second most wounded from the group and her other friend was the last,

They could hear the growling and snarls from the creatures of darkness, trying to intimidate their enemy and to trick him in anyway possible for a quick swipe, anything to seal their victory.

Unfortunately for the humans, one of them was smart enough to slip past the knight and made a mad sprint in order to at least kill them. But as the beast was around twenty feet away from them, the sound of countless birds chirping filled the area and it was suddenly impaled and electrocuted from a powerful, bright lightning bolt from nowhere, frying the creature in the process and making it fall down on the ground lifeless. When the humans looked behind the Grimm, they saw the towering giant had his sword arm in a hold against the jaws of one of the beowolf, while the other held a black chime aimed at their direction.

With the strength that almost looked from an Ursa, the warrior grabbed on hold the head of the offender and threw its large body against the other one, which dodged and released its fangs in a timed manner to bite down on his neck. It was over from their point of view, but once again, the warrior surprised them as he raised his left hand in front of the beowolf.

The air bent at his will as an ominous dark and red shield floated in front of him, crashing against his attackers futile attempt to end the fight so quickly. Giving the same coin in return, the knight lowered his form with his sword in hand and made swiped his weapon upwards, decapitating the monster in one fell swoop. The head flew off into the sky before landing someways away from him and the body fell down on the earth with a thud. One enemy was left and it was charging recklessly at his armored form. Not wanting to soil anymore his blade against such enemies, he sheathed it and grabbed the head of the beowolf in a timely manner with his burning hand, before kneeing on its chest, making him to lower itself for him. What followed next was the piercing scream of agonizing pain from the monster of the dark as the flame grew in size, drawing furious flames from its exit point, before erupting in an explosion that melted the head off leaving only smoke to rise from the headless beast.

The humans were stunned at the power from that last attack, no, from the whole combat even. This being... it was in a whole another level than them or even their elders. His strange magic, His abundance of strength and towering form could only be described as a being of unfathomable power. A warrior that was the transcended version of themselves. The cape behind his back fluttered as he turned heel towards them, his steps clanking and his dark form only made him look intimidating as he drew closer and closer to them, creating anxiety and fear from him.

They whimpered as he stood in front of them, silently staring at them for a few seconds, before kneeling down, reaching for their most wounded comrade with his right hand. Examining him and moving his head from side to side, taking in account of their wounds that they received.

The man beside him asked if he could somehow help his friend in their native language, but his effort was in vain, as the knight couldn't understand him nor the foreign language. However, he did know that this wounded man below him was on his last thread. Too much blood flowed out and the wounds looked as though they were going to be infected soon.

Standing up on his full height, he aimed his flame towards the man. Sensing that he was going to end their comrades life, they put their hands in front of him, pleading him to not burn him like the Grimm from before. They were afraid as the flame started to move on it's own, making their cries even stronger than before, even to the point for the woman to hit him with the flimsy bow to the side, only to be broken from the impact. All seemed lost as a ball of fire hovered over their friends body.

But a few moments later, they saw that it did not descended against their ally, in fact, it just remained there, giving warmth to them instead. A few seconds later, the flame released a wave of energy towards the vicinity. The man looked at the woman and saw that the gash on her arm was mending by itself, speaking up, he pointed out to her. She did the same by pointing at the bruise from the man simply being gone. They then saw their fallen friend sitting up, as his wounds were being sealed as well. The blood loss from before that carried his strength, was replaced by this warm feeling of energy that coursed through his body that was starting to turn cold. They were amazed by this hovering flame that was healing their wounds in such regard. A few moments later, it dissipated away as if nothing was there in the beginning and the warmth from it did the same, leaving behind only their reinvigorated bodies.

Taking note that his deed had been done successfully, he started to move away from the amazed humans. Though he didn't go far as they yelled at him, prompting him to look back and them making all gestures to him, most notably towards the side of the mountain. They kept saying something in their native language, before they got to him and held onto his sword arm and guided him around the land.

Taking the moment that he had, he looked at the people that were pulling him to wherever they wanted for him to go, inspecting them with great detail. The woman had light blue short hair, it barely reached her shoulders. Eyes that adorned sapphire blue color to them and a skin tanned from years under the sun. She wore a white cloth around her bosom and her waist. She had on her body green tribal marks on her face, lines that were just under her eyes that were separated from the middle of her nose.

The man that had his spear bitten off from earlier, only suffering a bruise from the confrontation, had blonde hair with a pair of oddly colored grey eyes, pearl skin where the sun had barely touched his person and marks that went horizontal from his eyes, in a failed attempt to intimidate anyone as his expression was childish at best. Cloth that only covered his waist with intricate markings, the man beside him was the same, except with less of them.

The other man, the one much more severe than the others, Had long light green hair, reaching all the way to his back. Skin slightly tanned, with some scars on his arms from previous battles or from spars. His spear rested on his hand, always taking a few glances for the warrior that was guided, while at the same time looking at the silver blade resting at his palm. Out of the three of them, he was the tallest while the other male was the shortest. However, compare to the three, the knight towered over them by a long shot, standing at a proud 7 feet tall. The tallest of the group could only reach his stomach at best.

He was confused to say the least. Most would simply do nothing and let him leave, that was normal, but now they were taking him to somewhere in this strange land that he found himself. Some part of him guessed that he would be brought to the village, the other part of him thought that he would be ambushed to try and take away his strength and his equipment to themselves. They moved alongside the mountain, moving quite a ways away from the place he fought those odd creatures, but in the end it was worth it as he found himself in the presence of a growing tribe.

From where he stood, he saw the housing of the people, which consisted of mostly tents and some light projects of wood and stone in development. A large area for people of ages, young and old, to train their bodies in the art of killing and survival, which was in use at the moment by a plethora of residents. In the middle of the camp was a space meant for a bonfire, one for festivities in their young culture. At a few meters high, in a path that has been made from countless trips, lay a house much more refined from the projects down below, made from only wood. That was the chiefs house and standing at it's edge, stood the man in question, surveying his tribe with a serious look.

When the people noticed the scavenging group brought forth a new arrival, clad in dark armor and a flame on his left hand that never seemed to fade, they were both cautious and afraid of the newcomer. Why the foraging group brought a towering human with a weapon strapped to his back too large to any of them to be used in practical means and another one on his hand that seemed more reasonable confounded them, yet kept a wary gaze on him as he was guided through the village.

Noticing the figure from below with unusual equipment, the elder made his way down the path. The people around the village were frightened with reason, mainly due to the large stature of the man. His unknown nature and ominous aura that he emitted was more than enough to put them in edge, except for the people that he had rescued. As they guided the knight, they stopped when an elder came towards their view, barking orders at the three of them. They responded back to him, in a more respectable way, to calm him down, using gestures to try to explain the situation.

At that point, the chieftain of the tribe had made his way to them, gazing at the dark giant with a curious pair of eyes. So far, he had not attempted any kind of violence at them, yet he didn't felt at ease with him not uttering a single word during the discussion with the young ones with the elder. He didn't show any sing of caution, yet looks could be deceiving, with the helmets visor down, not showing either face nor eyes to the chief.

While he approached the giant, they elder and young forage team silenced themselves while making a gesture of respect to the leader, by putting both hands on their chest in a cross and slightly hunching their backs for him. He marveled at the intricate golden designs of the black armor, intrigued at the drawing on both cloths on his person and was impressed by the weapons that he held, not to mention the flame on his hand peaked his interest for not fading away or even looked to hurt the man.

The knight also looked at the man, seeing him dressed in a very distinct clothing considering the others. His torso and waist were covered with white pieces of cloth that reached down to his knees, with the markings of the village plastered on the front. To his side, a makeshift sharp axe made out of stone and sticks, primal to it's time, but nonetheless effective for either cutting or fighting an enemy. His body was covered with green war paint and with large, long, thin leaves hanging on his shoulders as a ornate. On his neck was a necklace with three fangs, the middle one longer and bigger than the rest. His hair and eyes were the same color as the bruised man.

"Ara tu es?" He asked the giant in his raspy old voice, grooming his long beard in thoughtfulness, which translated meant 'Who might you be?" However, he did not receive a response to the knight that seemed to prefer looking around with his eyes. He repeated his question once more, in case he didn't heard him. He did tilted his head forward, glancing at his sword before the man. He sheathed it, thinking that he meant to put his weapon away. The man was puzzled at the warrior for misunderstanding him, but thankful that he put his sword away.

"Este van ara tu es, van arma." The bruised man said towards the knight, which translated meant "He asked who you are, black armor." Yet no response came back to him as the warrior looked around more, scouting the place for any ill intent aiming at him.

"Hes lo no persgunt von ure?" The woman then turned to the knight, saying "Does he understand us?" To which they were more inclined to believe so in that regard.

The chief then asked the group why they brought this human to their tribe where they explained everything to him. How they were foraging as usual, only to be cornered by the beasts of darkness. How they tried desperately to escape and how they were trying to either frighten or make them go away with a few pokes, only to slowly take away their weak weapons, inching closer each moment and when they thought they had been the beasts new meal, how the warrior in their sight saved them with a weird power that looked like ice, how his blade seemed to grow in size in the wave his swing, how he summoned thunderbolts out of thin air, erect a shadow shield to protect himself and then the most frightening thing they saw, how he blew away one of the creatures heads with an explosion on the palm of his hand, where the flame resided.

The chief and elder were skeptical at their outlandish story, on how a human like him could wield the power of the elements in his hands. True his appearance looked odd, but there weren't any indication that he could use anything like that, except for the flame. The chief asked concrete proof that he could at least control an element at his will. The woman then tapped the armors chest, or close to his chest, and made various gestures and sounds to him, which confounded him as to what she wanted.

She pointed towards a tree stump a few ways away from them, no more closer to the training field by two feet. She pointed towards his left hand and made a throwing motion to it with the sound of chirping from her. He thought for a bit before he nodded to her, understanding that they wanted to see the lightning spear in action, after it took him a few moments to understand her odd request.

Grabbing his dark chime raised an eyebrow from the chief, raising it high on the air he took aim at the stump. Suddenly, thousands of birds chirped as light was condensed and flickered violently, surprising anyone watching the force of nature bend at his will. In a fluid motion, he threw the spear of lightning and hit more or less the target, leaving some wood still stuck to the ground while a scorch mark was etched just below the middle of the stump.

Not needing anymore proof from them, the elder told them that the warrior was a danger to their people and that he needed to leave immediately, out of fear that the next target on his list would be them. Though the chief, much more calm with the situation, raised his hand for the elder to hold his tongue, as he instructed the men and women that brought him to let him stay in the village for a while, to keep a closer eye on him and to let him be at the village. This instilled both annoyance and negative feedback to him by the elder, thinking that he is risking the well being of the village.

His voice fell in deaf ears though, if the warrior in front of them had any aggressive thoughts he would've already been attacking the village by the orders from their neighboring tribes who had ill intentions against them. Seeing such a powerful being not having any kind of negative or aggressiveness towards them, he wanted to believe that he would not put the village at harms way.

The three youths lightened up at the prospect that the knight that saved them had permission to let him stay with them, though the feeling did not go so well with some villagers that had more than enough reason to banish him. Power meant that the person could easily be corrupted and greed slowly instilled in their hearts. The power of lightning that came from that strange object on his waist... It was mighty interesting to have.

Thinking this place safe, the knight followed the young men and woman towards a spot of his choosing that would be his home for the moment. Not understanding what they spoke beforehand nor why they kept trying to speak to him, he toned them out as he found a spot most pleasing for a respite of his own. He was not tired nor fatigued, however his consistent use of spells had drained him a bit mentally. He took note not to use these spells of his outside of combat carelessly and casually.

He sat down on the ground, resting his enormous form on the grassland below him. From where he looked, he could see the training grounds of the tribe, hitting wooden dolls with makeshift primal weapons and flimsy bows. It honestly did not feel an age as advanced as his. No buildings with architecture, no armor on their bodies nor blades of iron or steel nor even new spells for them to utilize. A truly new age was upon him, one where he could not ignore the nagging feeling that he did not belong here.

The three people around him took a close eye on him and his weapons. Interested in his equipment and the mysterious person that had their face covered by a metal visor. They tried to speaking with him, asking for at least a word from him, finding it odd that he never spoke a single word since he came here. However, they would not dare to touch him, nor try to force him to do otherwise, for they fear that he might end them the same way he ended those spawns of darkness in the forest.


	3. Green Axes (II)

5 Years passed as the knight decided to make this village a place for him to rest his body. Since then, he decided to create a small bonfire overlooking the training field, keeping a watchful eye on them, never to utter a word to the residents, only giving them an ear to listen. Despite the time that he had lived here, he could still not understand their language, though he could notice that they always called him 'Sarndian', which meant in their language 'Silent Warrior'.

During his time in the tribe, he has been called numerous times from either the chief or the people that he rescued five years ago, to partake in the daily necessity of foraging for food. Most of the time, he would only act as a guardian to them, taking on the dark creatures that threatened to smite them during their time to find food for their and the tribes survival.

Some people that were grateful of his constant vigilance offered him a portion of the food, but he politely shook his helmet and sat down on his spot, continue his watch on the training grounds for all these years. His armor didn't rust from the weather conditions, his swords never once chipped from his fights, his flame never faded from the touch of water, his form ever still making birds perch on him any given moment to sing under his motionless body.

They grew more curious at how odd he looked and acted with them. Never too close and always at arms reach when it came to speak or interact with him, not to mention that his face was still covered in shadows. All these years and no words or any distinct features from him. Some women took a shine to him, offering him their bodies either by obligation of the elders or out of a dare. None captivated him and all were returned back, some relieved for not being with a man that they do not love and others disappointed to not be with him.

Speaking of women, the woman that he saved, now knowing that her name was 'Aylen', by her pointing to herself numerous times in a conversation with him, he simply nodded his head in confirmation, as to say that he understood the message. She has come many times to him to either talk by herself or with the chiefs son. Today would be another one of those days where she would speak with him, but this time she smiled quite warmly to him. This intrigued him as she looked different today.

She talked in a soft tone, quite happily to him as she kept a steady hand on her belly. patting it affectionately, telling about her day. He blinked twice as he slowly realized what she was trying to tell him. She was carrying their first child, giving it some special attention to her growing child in her womb. The knights surprised slowly faded, as he had seen some signs of them being with each other recently, escaping their homes to meet each other during the night and training with each other more often.

She finished speaking with a chuckle escaping her lips, finding it amusing to see the kids that were not so far away from them playing in a childish game, one where her own child will play one day. She simply could not wait for her to have him on her arms. The knight was silent as usual, but then, for the first time since he had arrived, sound came from him.

"May your child be filled with love." Three voices echoing with each other in tandem, escaped his lips, catching her off guard. That was his voice that nobody has ever listened before, she blinked surprised, thinking that he simply did not have a voice. She did not understand his language, hence she inched closer and asked him to repeat those words, but no voice came back. He did not understand her either and only said that as to not be rude to her.

Her interest was elevated to a new plane and exciting filled her mind. Did this strong being just gave her his blessing? Did he congratulate her for carrying the child of their future? She had so many questions and so many words that she wanted to learn from his strange, divine language. She wanted to learn it, but his constant silence meant that it was sealed tight.

It didn't matter, today she got to tell him the news and heard his voice for the first time. It was a great day for her, even if nobody would believe her that he had spoken to her.

* * *

Through the months that passed by, her visits were becoming less and less. Conserving her strength from leaving her home, always carrying that warm smile towards her belly. She was pleasantly surprised when the knight himself came to her for a few visits, knowing that her well being came first and since she enjoyed to talk to him so much, a visit here and there was very appreciated.

Autumn soon came and her pregnancy had reached its peak, with a bulging stomach containing her first born. Her soul mate, the villagers chief son named 'Cheveyo' through the conversations with Aylan, started to scavenge more with his companions in order to provide her with the nutrients that she needed to prepare her for the child labor, arriving soon. It would only take a few days at best for her to feel the contractions and to give birth to a new life into this world.

The knight had been busy as well, often going out with various other villagers to ensure their safety in order to hunt and gather supplies. Not to mention exploring when he did not have a pair of eyes looking at his direction with malicious intent. He started to notice that some of the older generation, the elders eyed his gear with greed, making him to think carefully if now would be the time to leave or not.

He has investigated the land around them numerous times, not finding anything noteworthy, except for a very familiar fragment of a coiled blade in the chiefs possession. Yes, it was the very same fragment that he used in numerous occasions in order to return to the Fire Keeper. In one instance where he was permitted to touch it, a small ember reacted towards him, making the fragment brighten up faintly, as if it recognized the one that had touched of it. Not wanting to take what was clearly his, for he had it first, he left the his home and decided to return to his spot.

Through the years, he has encountered various beasts of the darkness that were vastly different from the beowolves that he had fought beforehand. Some resembled bears, others were two snakes intertwined with each other, ravens as big as a tree, flying gargoyles that waited patiently before aggressively pouncing at them, wraiths that took refuge in different objects only to then engage in combat, corrupted wild boars that run with the sole intent of killing and much more. He fought them valiantly with the others, however he himself was only human and couldn't save most of his entourage.

The knight interacted with Cheveyo a few times, but only because Aylan asked his opinion on a few matters, after that they barely talked, as the silent warrior simply watched him and others train in the field with their weapons.

Their weaponry still consisted of those primal tools, however they were slightly refined to be more durable and not breaking after hitting their target 6 times. An improvement from before indeed, but still vastly inferior to that of his blade. It felt distasteful to even watching them, being so well versed in swordsmanship and only being able to shine against the creatures of darkness.

One day as he sat before his bonfire, admiring the flame, the weather started to take a small turn here and there, but not enough for it to cast a downpour on the village. As he thought that, a tribal member came rushing towards him quite agitated. He kept saying things that didn't make sense to him, but he did say many times Aylan which prompted him to stand up and follow the man back to her tent.

Inside, the tribal chief and Cheveyo looked at Aylan that was now entering labor. Some elders close to the leader came as soon as they heard that their successor would come into the world today, however something was heavily wrong.

Aylan was bleeding profoundly, not being able to gather the strength that she needed to push her infant out. If this continued to be so, then she would lose her life as her child was born or both of them would die today. That is, as the dark armored person in question was brought to them. Cheveyo seemed to plead him to help his beloved, saying that he would do anything to repay the giant, but his words fell off, not being able to understand him one bit.

His cape fluttered with each step that he took to approach her, kneeling down next to the woman, he brought his leather gauntlet up, prompting her to grab it as hard as she could. She was in excruciating pain, but smiling nonetheless towards them. A raspy breath escape the knights mouth as he opened it to speak.

"Fear not, you shall not die. You'll be able to hold your child, you have my word." His voice surprised many, as they never heard him before, it's as if a higher being spoke an ancient tongue long forgotten, with three voices speaking in tandem, despite not understanding a word he said. Hearing his words, soothed her mind a bit as he brought his flame just above her. It coiled around his armored gauntlet before releasing a gentle light, hovering on her and releasing waves of warmth towards anyone present or close to her.

Renewed with the strength provided by the hovering bundle of energy, she let loose painful grunts, pushing the child in her womb outside into the hands of the village chief. It was revealed that her first born had been a baby girl, crying and letting air fill her infant lungs. New life had been brought into this world and in his eyes, a new one where he would protect her, like he has done so for the past years.

The chief then gave her child back to her, smiling happily as she cradled it with joy and Cheveyo joining her as well. Seeing as though his role was finished, the black knight slowly backed off. This was their moment, their happiness. Being there, he could only imagine that he would be a nuisance or an eyesore to those around him. Retreating his form and making his way back to his familiar bonfire. He failed to notice the frown that the chief gave as he walked away, but understood his point of view. He still viewed himself as a stranger and the older generation would agree with that line of thought. If only they would open their eyes to the miracle he just performed to her daughter-in-law.

* * *

Not long after, roughly two years at least, Aylan was walking out of her tent and let her child see the world in her arms. She looked over her prosperous village, booming with energy and life, thanks to the efforts of everyone, even the silent knight that took great care of their foraging teams and sometimes partook in their training. Cheveyo was hand picked by him himself and started to train him rigorously. Take it as a way to make sure the father was strong enough to protect his family or to test his current position. It was a gruesome, almost unfair fight against someone that took so many Grimm at once and come out with only a graze or a small chip from his long sword, though the valuable experience that came from it, did reinvigorate the grey eyed blond to become stronger.

When she approached the pair, the knight returned his sheath back into his blade, using it as a way to not hurt the son of the chief. Cheveyo was panting heavily, sparring with the ever silent armored giant, using his spear proficiently despite barely able to touch his target. For someone as big as the knight, he was surprised by the amount of agility he has in his current gear.

She talked with her husband quite happily to him, baby on her arms as she fondly cradled the infant on her arms. With a tap on the ground, the knight started to move away, giving the pair their much needed alone time. While the male was happy for his consideration, she frowned at this act, wanting to talk with the both of them. After her complicated birth, she became more emotional towards the silent warrior, being thankful for his assistance and being able to hold her daughter Toma.

A few weeks later, Cheveyo and Aylan were chatting happily close by to the giant that kept himself warm with his bonfire. He kept a steady gaze at the training ground, becoming less populated as the day went by. He didn't felt rising from his spot to train the chiefs son, even he knew how much the young man could strain himself before collapsing from exhaustion.

He then looked down to see a very young Toma crawl towards him to his left side, looking at him through fair white hair and grey eyes, her skin tanned like her mother. To anyone, he would be a terrifying being to even meet, but the infant was more curious than anything. Even the children of the village were afraid to approach him, much less provoke him, with his many feats of strength already demonstrated beforehand. He moved his helmet slowly, looking at her with a silent gaze.

The mother and father looked at the gentle giant as he didn't bothered to move as the child kept crawling before putting her small arms up, wanting to be picked up by him. The father chuckling told the baby girl to not bother the large man, but once again they were surprised when the knight, using his right hand, picked her up as softly as he could and started to rock her side by side very slowly, as if he remembered the times when he held a baby, the memories of his old life coming to life. Soon her eyelids started to feel heavy, putting her head next to the dark armors chest and resting her body on his right arm. The warmth of the bonfire and the rocking lulling her to sleep in a few moments. Her soft breathing could be heard if someone were to be close to them.

When he turned his helmet to the pair, he signaled them to come get her, but the mother shook her head before coming closer with her soul mate and sitting next to him. It was quite a shock to see their child on their guardians arms and sleeping as safely as she was. Even the mother had some trouble to put her to sleep in some nights. It was honestly a good change of pace to see her offspring tuckered away unto his warm embrace, specially to the ever silent warrior that acted as second nature to him.

* * *

Five years passed in the blink of an eye and Toma was seen playing with the children of her age. She was carefree in nature, laughing and running around, all within the eyesight of the knight that sat still overlooking them as a pass time. A swallow chirped to himself on top of his right shoulder, taking a quick break from his flying adventurers in search of a mate. The girl happily waved at him, where he gave a small nod to the bright bundle of joy, as she ran away from a game of tag.

It was a strange peace to anyone that saw them from another perspective. The village thrived thanks to their ebony guardian, as if the heavens themselves granted them a means to survive the harsh world with just his help. However, that didn't meant that they could leave everything on his hands, many a times where he wasn't available to help or refused to move from his spot. They needed to fend for themselves, not to let someone powerful to take care of them. It was that message that the knight wanted to transmit to them, they needed to grow by their own might, only receiving some help along the way.

Just as some villagers were getting used to the peace that they were granted, they soon found themselves terrified as multiple humans gave a war cry into the sky and rushing towards them over the woods at the villages fortified entrance made from thick logs. Spears in hand and red tribal paint on their bodies, these were the neighbor tribe, the Red Skins, trying to appropriate the land and resources for themselves. The Green Axes, responded back with the same flame, but they weren't expecting a rebellion against them so soon, not while the Red Skins had their hands full with the offspring of darkness in the forest.

Getting up slowly, letting the swallow fly off his shoulder at his own leisure, the ebony knight took his long sword out of its resting place and started to make his way towards the fighting in a brisk pace. His cape fluttering as he his blade swayed from his grip and flame seemed to come to life, as the kids looked at the giant with an intense focus towards the rebellious group.

The Green Axes were able to stave off the enemies, even killing a few, but not before suffering some casualties as well, some died while others got luckier with a spear through a limb, hanging on their conscious by a thread. The Red Skins licked their lips in an almost psychotic way, enjoying to see the blood being spilled into the ground and on their weapons, even to the point of ingesting blood by licking it off their spears. They cackled maniacally as one went ahead and speared through their prey and aiming at the chiefs son, he was prepared for his, training with the giant for around 7 years had sharpened his skills to the point of seeing the attack in slow motion, using the end of his spear he hit the enemies stomach, before kicking the spear away from the Red Skin's grip and finally passing it through his throat, killing him instantly. Another one tried their luck on him, only to suffer the same fate, albeit through the heart and chipping his weapon.

The enemy was surprised at how well Cheveyo was holding out. Normally two people were enough to overpower on of them, yet he remained calm and collected. With sharp grey eyes looking at them as he entered his battle stance. Some were about to attack him by themselves, as the rest were preoccupied with the other forces, until they noticed the dark armored form of the knight coming into view, his sword out and heading straight at them slowly. His presence boosted the moral of the Green Axes as they fought with a little bit more strength and the Red Skins were feeling unnerved as the warrior came closer and closer.

One broke out in a scream as he raised his spear and tried to harm the behemoth, only for his weapon to break upon contact with the ebony armor. He looked up at him as a cold sweat ran down his back. The knight grabbed him with his burning hand on top of his head and threw him off like he weight like a feather against a small group of four. When they looked at their comrade, they saw the top of his head with severe burns, his brain most likely suffered internal damage from simply being the presence of the flame and his skill was no doubt cracked.

Though they could not do nothing about him either ways, nor them as the knight conjured a chaotic flame and threw it at them. Magma spilled from the exit point, melting their bodies at temperatures not meant for them to survive, their screams of anguish put the rest of their companions in a state of panic as they tried to keep away from the monster in the field. Pointing his sword at what he thought was the leader of this operation, he put his sword up above and a magical great sword with moonlight energy formed from the base of the blade. The deep emerald that radiated from the blade captivated many that directly looked at it, the faint glow then burst into one with energy. With a swipe to the right, a wave of energy was let loose and separated the torso from his lower half, ending the leaders life in one quick swoop. Two more were hit by the remaining energy, marking their fate the same as his.

With no one to guide them anymore, the knight sheathed his sword, leaving the Red Skins fate to the tribe that he resided. It took half an hour, but they were able to either finish the battle with the enemies side being killed or running away into the woods defeated. The Green Axes howled in victory cheers, earning them some new weapons to their arsenal while moving their wounded to be tended. Today had been a marked a difference in the tribe that with the talented Cheveyo at their side and the guardian looking over them, their victory would be assured.

Toma ran towards her father after the battle was over, she was hiding with the other kids at the chiefs house with all the women that couldn't fight. They both gave a tight hug between them as they were happy that they were still alive and well.

However, their celebration was put on hold as the ground trembled every so often. It seemed that it was coming in their direction, from how it shook the warriors with greater strength than before. Their answer came in the most heart wrenching way possible as a Goliath appeared above the trees looking straight at the tribe that finally were able to push away their offenders. At the feet at the beast, fresh blood was seen dripping from it, probably from the people that ran away, the unlucky ones that were in its path.

Against an enemy larger than any they have ever seen, made them think that they would lose their lives today. Their eyes stood wide open as their hearts dropped, there was no way for them to win and no way for all of them to escape.

From the corner of Toma's eye, she saw that the knight slapped his left burning hand onto his body, giving off an aura of red as he grunted under his helmet and breath. For the first time, she saw him bring out the weapon that hanged on his back since she was born, the great sword that had the same height as her fathers. He entered a stance as wild winds started to concentrate on the blade and him inching closer to the elephant beast. It gave a loud roar towards the inhabitants, scaring them out of their wits, but not him and when he was right at the middle, the blade gave off a quick glint, before two more followed it.

As the beast stepped inside their territory, the knight put the blade of his head and swiped it down horizontally, ending a visible white wave of energy to hit the beast dead on the body, making it recoil backwards. It felt like it had been hit with something with the magnitude of a natural disaster. The knight swiped it diagonally, another wave hit the beast and then another one quickly made it fall down from its hind legs from the sheer power that was being hammered against it.

He entered a stance once more, this time taking it longer as five glints escaped the sword and the winds rushed through it at the strength of a cyclone at his hands. With four heavy swings, reminiscent of the Soul of Lords doing to him, he finished it with a final swing downwards, cutting the life of the creature of darkness apart as it slowly disappeared from their sight, leaving behind only broken trees and an imprint on the soil.

Once the threat was gone, the knight put his great sword back in its resting place, but not without feeling the repercussions flowing through his body. That was the first time he had been able to successfully use his new ability from the Storm Ruler counterpart, the shock however was too great, making him fall to one of his knees with fatigue catching up to him as Power Within that he casted beforehand faded away.

As his cape fluttered from the wind that he created, Toma saw how cool the knight looked while fighting the beast from afar, effectively killing it and saving the tribe and their village. That was the point where she knew what she wanted to do when she grew up, to be as strong as their guardian. The one that was the first to fall a Goliath on their own.

* * *

Another 8 years passed by, Aylan had another child soon after the battle against the fight against the Red Skins, named 'Chilam', this child possessed her mothers eyes and hair, but had her fathers pearly skin.

During that time, Toma had made her sole objective to maker herself as strong as the knight, sparing with him at the same time as her father, sometimes going for longer against him. While the knight didn't mind to help in her gaining extra training from him, he felt like this life shouldn't be a choice that she herself should choose. The life of a warrior is a treacherous one, whereas just one mishap in enough to kill them in an instant.

Though he had to admit that he grew fond of the little bundle of joy. How in the foraging parties she would ask the groups that he went with to take her with them, even though Cheveyo and Aylan were against it at first, they let it go thinking that the knight would protect her, as he did without fail. She liked to be on the knights large shoulders, able to see things from a different perspective than others and enjoying the feeling of being taller. And how her will pushed her more than the kids of her age, it was a nice way to see that this generation had guts to improve themselves.

She carried a glint in her grey eyes that often looked at the knight. Every time he pulled his long sword and when he would use his great sword, she could only squeal at his form, his cape and scarf swaying in the wind and how he would sit down beside his bonfire. She enjoyed those the most as she would rest her body next to him with a smile that radiated happiness. Make it rain or shine, the girl was always in a good mood.

That is when one day, when they were sparring with each other, he could feel that something was amiss, something was viewing him in a certain way that made him uneasy. When he noticed it, he had already been too late as he saw the stone knife from one of the adults rushing towards him. He would take the blow, their weaponry would barely put a dent on him, yet the Toma thought differently as her body involuntarily jumped up and took the blow from him, making her scream in anguish as the blade cut her throat.

He froze when he heard her yelling and fell down next to him, blood gushing out of her wound while the man that attacked him started to laugh darkly as he took two steps back with a smirk on his face. This man... he wasn't from the tribe. The faint red war paint under his green was barely visible, the Red Skins had comeback, being much more shrewd than before. Behind him there were three squads of four laughing as they came closer to him.

Ignoring them, he focused his flame to try and cast Warmth to her, but she put her hand up, with a smile to him. She spoke silent words to him, with a few stray tears from her. She was far too young and the wound on her neck too severe, not enough time for him to release his pyromancy. Though he couldn't understand her words, he could feel them. She was thanking him for making her happy all these years, for always being there when she wanted to vent, to train, to talk, to simply stay by his side. She was happy to have met him... And then Toma's spirit left her eyes. This made the ebony warrior let out a few tears on top of her face, sadness took his undead heart before looking at squads approaching him.

Grief took the knight as the girl cared deeply about him and he grew quite fond of her. She had so much potential, so much life ahead of her and it was robbed away from her in an instant. He rose up to his feet as he glared towards the man, black smoke rose from the ground and seemed to hug the black warrior as his the visor in his helmet shone bright red eyes looking at the person that committed the murder with pure malice.

With an angry war cry catching the attention of the villagers that were minding their business, the knight slammed his closed fist on the earth with power emanating from his hand. Moments later, countless ethereal orange great swords that once were held Nito himself were conjured from the land, piercing the spies bodies and mangling them, all except the one that killed Toma. That one got the worst fate anyone saw the knight do. Grabbing the man's face, he made him look directly at his glowing red visor as his life energy was sucked out of his body, before dropping his husk of a shell onto the ground, lifeless.

When Aylan and Cheveyo were on the scene with the other villagers, they saw Toma on the ground with a blood puddle beneath her. Aylan screamed as she ran towards her and cried tears of sorrow, yelling from the top of her lungs as her precious daughter, her first born was gone. Cheveyo was more shocked than anything, he saw what the ebony warrior did and heard his scream, however now he simply stood there, looking at the bodies that he had killed, some of them were children around 13 years old, no older than Toma.

The guardian did eventually move, slowly moving to the side of the girl, sparing a glance at her with his helmet moving. The woman looked at him, tears streaming at her eyes. She then grabbed him by his leather hand, pleading him to bring her girl back, somehow, anyhow. He already performed so many miracles, he should be able to do this one as well. The truth is... he couldn't. If you aren't undead, you cannot come back to life, that curse was mainly for those that were from ages long gone and the curse has been lifted after all this time to everyone in the tribe, as far as he knew. But his curse was not, he had something to do in this land before returning to the earth, only he had no clue what he needed to do to release him.

However, that was one thing that he would do as a parting gift for them. One where he would make sure was delivered. As he walked away, with Aylan pleading him to bring Toma back, Cheveyo saw him drawing his long sword, with his cape being brushed by the breeze. Just the way that he walked and how he seemed resolute with his blade sternly on his grip made the man feel much smaller than he could compare with the warrior.

That was the last sighting of the Ebony warrior the tribe of the Green Axes saw. News then came to them as the tribe Red Skins had be exterminated altogether. Nothing remained except fire and bodies sprawled everywhere, with indices of a great battle took place. For some time, they affiliated it as an attack made by the creatures of darkness, but the new chief of Green Axes knew very well what had happened. The menace of the Red Skins had been done so by the warrior that left their tribe. And his actions were not forgotten.

In a cave near the chiefs home, there were markings and paintings of important events that they recorded and to remember in the future. The last entry was a painting of a warrior that wielded a large blade on his back, a sword on his waist and a flame on his left hand. There it showed his accomplishments and a clear message in the last painting. Those that wrong the warrior, will be branded by his red eyes and only death will be the only way to repent their actions.

The silent knight moved forward with nothing stopping his steps, blade in hand and a steady gaze ahead of him. The events of that tribe, it was more than enough evidence that some part of the ages still remained strong. The greed and cruelty of humanity still remained, making peace still such a fleeting thing to grasp.

"Humanity still hasn't changed even after all this time. Some are kind hearted and others are merciless. While they choose their path that they want to take, I choose to blur mine. I'll be kind to whom I see fit and cruel to those that deserve it. There is no right path, only forward. The rest will follow suit." The knight thought to himself as he entered a stance, while being surrounded by three packs of Beowolves, itching to enter into action against their new prey.


	4. A new beginning

Vale: 900 years prior of the Great War

Eighty years passed since he left the village that he guarded. The knight never looked back to it, he felt that he didn't deserve to return to such a place. Dishonor is what he felt thinking of the village, yet he felt that his service by ridding of the Red Skins had somehow atoned his mistake, even though it was but a very small portion of his failure.

As such, he embarked in a long journey, the longest he ever felt as the seasons passed one by one. Eliminating the creatures of darkness that loomed on the land, staying clear of any tribes that seek aid or to plunder his possessions. Many times was he ambushed by cunning ones, very few were able to only scratch his ebony mail, even fewer were able to tell the tale of their pointless deed.

In his travels he had fought against numerous Grimm, some old, some bigger, some fierce and some smart. He had sustained damage, though those were the lucky shots that they got on him. His Blue Flame still shone brilliantly, utilizing the spell he learned from Oolacile to repair his gear from whatever damage was building up.

Due to his curse, he could not die, could not age either. So what can one do, if they are renounced the ability to die or grow old? They become absorbed in their thoughts. Thinking of the future, thinking of the past... The present however was never mentioned. He was there and yet he felt that he was so far away, a relic of a faraway plane.

The humans had gone back to the old days, utilizing things that they find one the ground and steadily progressing to the next stage of life. From what he remembers from books that he read, this might be the age of stillness, an age where mankind was only starting to grasp the world. An age where creation had been yet to be rooted in their beings.

If that were true, then that would mean that the age of iron would still be far away from their sight. So far away that there needed to be centuries before the need of resources starts to occur.

Another thought crosses his mind, one that makes him think more carefully. Should he intervene? Should he impart his wisdom of centuries of research? Techniques that have been buried for over a millennia of time? Ways that have been long forgotten into the ash that once barren the land? Would that be wise?

What would happen if he taught the humans how to speak his language? Taught them how to read and write? Taught them how to forge armors like his or swords for protection? That would accelerate the flow of events yet to come and in short produce a war for resources and land. Then comes agriculture and ways to secure food from predators... There is so much knowledge that has no place to set home or yet to be recorded.

And here he was, debating if such a things would be allowed for him to give. He grew somewhat attached to the village that he guarded, even the little child grew on him, more than she should've.

Night came, another campfire was made utilizing the wood that the forest gave away. It was not a bonfire, but it would do as always during his travels. He sat down on a trunk, cut down from a fight he had with a King Taijitu. The snake duo were hissing and attempting to kill the intruder that wandered towards their territory, only to be met with it's demise by a magic spell, the Soul Great Sword. It separated the duo for a moment, before their heads had been severed to ensure their death.

Sword in front of him, stabbed on the ground slightly as he put his crossed arms on top of the hilt and laid his head on top of his armored limbs. He observed the dancing flames, entrancing him as any other night before. Another day of traveling, another night of rest. Soon he felt his eyelids grow weary from staying up for so long, the flame on his left hand diminishing as the will of the user.

He closed his eyes as he felt tired from the constant fighting that he's done for a fortnight without rest. Just entering his slumber was peaceful enough and the sounds that the forest gave was enough to lull him away.

An hour or two passes and he hears a sound, someone or something was moving towards his direction. He jerked his head to the side with his eyes open, gripping his sword as he looked to the presence that was near his campfire.

It was a person, no more than 13 years old. A child that had the expression of fear on him, with a long piece of cloth that covered his body. Except this child had some extra appendages. A pair of ears at the top of his head, bunny like ones. Looking behind the kid, he saw pairs of glowing eyes looking at him, all of them preoccupied or feeling anxious.

"What in Gwyn's name..." He thought to himself as he stood up, the body seemingly froze on the spot as the knight came closer to him, yelling in his language for the behemoth to stay away from him, tearing up. Once he was towering over the boy, he sheathed his sword back and knelt down taking a closer look at the boy.

There was signs of malnourished, his cloth was ripped here and there and he looked dirty. Looking at the people behind him, they also looked the same, though with different properties to them, probably different species.

He rose his leather hand up and inched closer to the boy that closed his eyes shut, waiting for whatever this being was planning to do to him. The knight hovered his hand over the boy's face, before clenching it and retracting.

Standing up again, he returned to his trunk and resumed his watch over the fire. His slumber can wait for another day.

The boy slowly opened his eyes after hearing the clanking of the armor from the giant to sit down. He scampered back to his people, hugging on to a person that looked like their sibling. They hug each other so strongly that it looked like they were caught in a vice.

The animal people were unnerved of such a stranger that appeared out of nowhere and decided to camp close to him. Was he another one of those humans? Or was he another creature of the night? His strange attire seemed as though both somehow connected to him and yet he dared not to touch the child.

* * *

The night turned colder, making the animal people to huddle up together to produce and secure their heat. They had made a campfire, however theirs looked much less providing than the strangers.

The child with the bunny ears told them that the fire from the human was much more pleasant than theirs, warmer and bigger even. One of the adults told to kid to hush and try to sleep. That night a couple of the adults had their weapons out and gave a weary eye onto the giant and what his next move would do.

The knight simply continued watching the flames, as if they were more interesting than the eyes watching him. They weren't malicious, but they didn't held good intentions either. At least the dark beasts weren't around for tonight, he could relax a bit more.

Muffled steps, just low enough to not make the normal humans ears to catch. They drew closer to the giant, attempting to gauge at what distance they were allowed to approach him, his head still focused on his campfire.

Closer and closer they came towards the ebony warrior, to a point where they came close to the fire, feeling it's warmth. Could feel his gaze shift from person to person as they stood there, uneasy that he had his sword between his hands. They would do the same, if someone that they didn't know slowly inched closer to them, being armed makes one feel secure.

One took a step too far and the sword pointed at him, a male adult with a brown wolf tail, he froze as a cold sweat rolled down his cheek. He passed the line of reasonable distance, so now he was being reprehended. However, the knight just had the blade hover in place, making so that another member of the small squad grabbed the person out of the spot. This made the sword return to it's place slowly as the knight kept a steady gaze at them.

Now that they knew where they were comfortable, the man with the wolf tail had sat down from the nervous wreck that he felt, right next to the campfire. The heat from it was pleasant, it was comfortable at least, more so than their own which the man found it strange. How come there's this difference between both fires? Was there some trick to do so? Or maybe it was the flame that the knight had on his armored gauntlet?

The rest of the animal people that came to keep an eye on the stranger sat down too with the wolf human. The heat made them feel comfortable, despite the coldness of the night. Despite feeling the warrior's aura and his gaze on them, they chose to ignore it and look at something else.

The knight did the same, looking up towards the shattered moon. Through his journey, he had been questioning on why such a thing was into pieces. Was it an after effects of the dark? Of the curse that started to affect the world? Or perhaps something else. It was a mystery, but so was he.

For once the knight had company, though not the best kind. Eighty years spent on exploring, spent on fighting and surviving for another day had made him crave for something. However, he had to come in terms that even if he spoke, nobody would understand him unless he taught them his language. Something that he wasn't all too fond on doing so. Fearing that if he interferes with the growth of man, then consequences would surely come. He was no longer a monarch and he wished to not commit the same mistake as Gwyn did.

But even so... He wished to speak his thoughts out loud, even if they could not understand him. If the heavens and earth punish him for his want to communicate, then he'd endure the repercussions of it on his own.

"How curious your race is." His voice spoke in tandem with three others, surprising the animal people. "Curious as to who I am. Anxious as to what I am doing here. Unnerved for my silence so far. Scared of my unknown origins. These are the right reactions your kind should feel. Sending people to oversee my stay and to see if I am a threat to your community. Smart, but foolish all the same. For when the group becomes smaller, the less hands they have to guard the old and the young. Would you truly care for my entity, my presence in your land? Or would you cherish the people that you affiliate?"

There was a brief silence as the watchers could not respond him, could not understand him. But the voice that spoke to them, it was as if a being higher than them was asking something important and yet they could not reply back to a question they couldn't make heads or tails.

"Worry not, I already expected this. My language is foreign, just as yours is to me. No need to answer, no need to question either. Just having company after so many years has passed... I almost forgotten the feeling." Despite the language barrier, his tone was enough for them to understand him. He felt bittersweet. He sounded so distant as well, giving the feeling that he has been on a journey for years now.

"Rest for tonight, take comfort at the fire that I provide, take solace that I won't harm you. Tomorrow will come soon and dawn will bleed on the night sky ever so slowly. I shall think with the time that I have and decide what I wish to do next." Talking... how foreign it was for him to speak so much. Normally, the knight would be silent or say single words. But time makes him wonder if he did that to put distance to others or to focus on his path.

Even though the animal people didn't understand him, they felt that he was not a threat, at least not with the tone of his voice. They relaxed while the knight returned his gaze towards the fire. Thinking and debating.

Should he intervene? Should he teach? Should he guide them to a place they can call safe? Should he temper their bodies and mind? Would he be able to? All these questions arose from his mind. The want to communicate was something that he truly wished, to understand the humans, to usher them to a new age where they would understand him and he could do too.

But knowledge means power and that same power can be abused. The question... How much would he impart to them? Would he only give them enough to speak with him or would learning to fight effectively be okay? Magic or pyromancy would be too much for them and chaos would surely come with that dangerous combination to teach.

Another thought came into his mind, this one much more dreading. If he taught them and lead them to greener pastures, would they revered him as a monarch for their kind? A sovereign for these new species?

No... As much as they would want to call him that, he was no Vendrick, or Gwyn, or even Oceiros. He would protect them, he would not fall so easily into that state that they were in. He would become a guardian as before, except he would be just a bit more interactive with this new humans. He would not fail them, he cannot fail them.

* * *

When dawn came, the knight rose from his seat, taking the attention of his company that stood by with him. The fire that he made had long dissipated into mere embers, ones that he snuffled out by kicking dirt onto them. If he was going to try and help this kind, then he would need to gain their trust, something that was obviously difficult to do, with him being a stranger.

He turned towards the forest beyond, the option to leave them was still available, he didn't need to help them, to assist them. Yet he wanted to know... wanted to experience if he could lead this race to a bearable future. As of now, their weapons were made out of sticks and rocks, not suitable to fight the creatures of Grimm, just enough to survive in the wilderness.

His helmet turned towards his previous company, he had to tilt down to see them as they were curious as to what he would do. He stood in front of the one with the wolf tail, he was nervous thanks to the warning he gave to him last night. He knelt down in front of him, just so that they were in the same height and he brought his leather glove towards him, his hand relaxed.

The animal person was confused at the act and looked at the others for some help on what he was suppose to do. With hesitation he brought his right hand up and imitated the giant, before the ebony warrior took hold of the small humans hand slowly. Despite the difference between them, the wolf human felt... okay with the gesture. No malice, no ill intentions, nor aggressiveness on the part of the behemoth. Just a simple gesture with no strings attached.

He released the male human, much to the animal persons reluctance to do so and returned to his stature. He looked at the place where he last spotted the rest of them to camp and gestured to the man of his intentions. He pointed to him and then to their camp. The man looked at where he pointed, despite not understanding through voice, actions would be enough.

Looking around for approval from his fellow companions, the other members nodded their heads to him before gesturing him to follow him. He complied and followed with a slow pace, and quickly he could see this new species. An abundance of humans mixed with animal traits, not enough to be at the same level as the tribe he was with before, around a few families, 12 if he counted them right.

Though they were in a bad condition. They were too skinny, wounded and some of them looked as though they were at death's doors. He turned his helmet from side to side, he could see how miserable they were with their expressions, these were not the eyes of someone trying to survive, they were discouraged ones. The same eyes that he had when he walked on the Undead Settlement. How they challenged his will to continue on the arduous journey with their depressing setting.

He walked towards one of the wounded, it was an older male with ripped cloth on his chest. He was breathing heavily and had a crestfallen look, a woman was beside him and a child, both were depressed as well. A family where they were going to see the father and husband leave this world so soon from... a spear wound? He looked at another, a woman this time with her arm and shoulder wrapped in the same manner as the man, they were the wounds of a hand axe. Another wounded, this one had the markings of a creature of the dark, another one and another one and another one.

They were being attacked by both sides... Humans and the beasts of darkness. He looked at the dirt floor with silence. It was worse than he thought, much worse. They could not survive an onslaught of both enemies. One was smart and the other could gain intelligence, it would be a matter of time before all of them were going to perish, with their blood covered on the floor... Just like a hollow would be as the humans, the ones that weren't afflicted by the curse, would kill them for their infection.

He turned his helmet towards the wolf tailed man and pointed the wounded to where he was, he was confused as to why he would want them to come here with the wounded man. It was difficult to explain to him that he wished to help, so very difficult that with each try to gesture that he wanted to help made him do things his own way. He gently grabbed the wounded one by one, even though they offered resistance until he set them down next to the man.

The knight pointed one finger up before pointing to the flame on his hand and then the air. They were confused before the flame became responsive to his will, some were scared right away, especially the wolf human. He put his leather hand up to stop and reassured him by putting his hand onto his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. He wanted him to trust him, that no harm would come. He was skeptical, distrusting even after all the pain they had endured, but the gesture was enough to just trust him.

He pointed his hand slightly above them to not threaten them and released the same sphere as he had done before in the past. It floated in the air with a gentle light shining upon them, before releasing a soft wave of energy. They braced for the impact, fearing that it would harm them. However, they only felt warmth from it and relief. They slowly looked at the light and were entranced by it, how this lightly orange sphere was beautiful in it's self and how a small flame was able to produce such a thing.

For the wounded however, it was as if their prayers were responded. The pain started to subside, they were beginning to breathe more easily and when they took the wrapped cloth from their once heavy wounds, they saw just a mere scar that was slowly going away. This light wasn't just providing light, it was providing them a means to heal. An act of kindness, just one act of benevolence to show them that they weren't just another hunting animal. Tears welled up on their eyes as they sobbed with joy. This giant that was intimidating, that was much stronger than them from just looking at him, gave mercy to them.

They felt kindness for what felt like decades ago, and it felt so heavy on their hearts that they couldn't stop the flow of emotions. It was almost a feeling long forgotten for them. The ball of warmth soon faded away, after it's objective had been done. The wounded were now well, enough to stand up and hug their significant ones. A few of them immediately thank the kind warrior for saving them from their perilous disposition.

His feat had earned him their gratitude and some trust, now that the wounded were more inclined to stand on their own feet. But despite saving them from wounds, they still needed more. A place to call home, a place where they can have food, a place where they can be safe and secure from the aggression of the world and training to defend themselves. Through his travels to understand the layout of this new world, the knight had found a few places where he could consider safe enough to live and luck was on their side.

They simply needed to walk for a week and they would be in a safe environment to live. He wanted to help them survive, wanted to teach them ways to protect themselves, ways that they could rely on nature to cure them. It was going to be difficult, it was going to be rough, but their chances to survive would greatly improve. He just needed the acceptance of his plan to them.

He nudged the man with the wolf tail, to try and convey his message to him. He made gestures to them to try and understand, but his message wasn't clear enough. They simply had that puzzled look on their face, so he had to make his point apparent. He grabbed his Blue Flame and unsheathed it, making his small friend nervous. He pointed to the land then to the sword. He got a nod, he understood that the land here was dangerous. He sheathed his blade this time pointing to another direction and to the blade. Safe, where he pointed was safe for them to be.

He gestured him and to the others to follow him, he'd get them there one way or another. The man was agitated, it was a large group to move about. No doubt that they were going to be ambushed by either beasts or humans, he wasn't sure if they could make the trek that the giant was saying.

A hand rested on his shoulder, looking up at the giant, he saw as the light of the sun passed through the cracks of the leaves and branches of the trees towards them. He was a solid foundation of confidence, mysterious as the night itself and an aura that told him one thing. The same words that came out of the knights mouth.

"Trust me. I will protect you" He knelt down towards the man, bowed down his head and put his leather arm on his heart. It was a promise, an oath that he'd bring them to safety.

He was still unsure, but it would be enough for him to nod his head before going to talk with his people. It was going to be a long walk for the Faunus, a trip of some sort that would lead towards a more prosperous time, to greener pastures for them, to some much needed rest.

* * *

Luckily, the man was able to convince them to follow the warrior. Their supplies were starting to run low, food was becoming a serious problem and if they had to feed the giant as well, then their situation was more dire than anything. The forest was vast, anyone could easily be lost in it without much effort, but thanks to his travels it was nothing new to him. The dark knight had gotten a rough layout of the greenery through a high point not far from here as he always does when investigating a new area of the land. The mountains were a good place to view the landscape, however it was riddled with the beasts of the darkness, unsuited to live.

The first day of walking had been fine with some whining from the children and adults not used to walking for so long, with a couple of breaks for them to eat lunch and dinner. The second day was a bit more tricky as the land started to become treacherous, with a rocky road, hurting their bare feet, some were bleeding and others had black marks, but it was necessary to progress.

Third day there was a stream passing by, perfect for them to hydrate and relieve themselves. Fruit can help so much and their supplies were beginning to become scarce. They were lucky that the giant refused to eat their portions, always returning back to them. Some children started to feel bad for him, pushing himself more than they could imagine, having an empty stomach all the time and practically ignoring the gnawing pain. How little they knew that he felt nothing.

The fourth day was when enemies finally showed up. Beowolves and Ursas, three packs. They were stalking them, but knowing the knight for long made them apprehensive to approach their prey and the constant vigilance from the behemoth. All capable hands circled around the group, their makeshift weapons up in hopes to protect each other.

Taking his blade out of the scabbard slowly made the beasts recoil a step back, the old ones at least. The fights that they saw their brothers had with this behemoth was enough to strike terror to this immortal being. Stronger than the humans, stronger than the animals, stronger than them even with centuries of experience.

However, the knight looked like it was running out of patience with the creatures. He had noticed them stalking them for a few days already, but he couldn't attack them, not if left the animal people unattended and become victims of their next meal. His flame erupted to life, more so than before as it burned in a vicious red.

"We have no more time... Begone, fiends!" His voice boomed with anger as his flame morphed quickly, gaining more power than it had felt before from its user. Through the years, the knight had been fighting day in and day out, exploring this new world and practicing his abilities. They were still incomplete, but close to the people that had mastered the arts of multiple skills. This spell, although the same as Bursting Fireball was an alteration of its original form, an upgrade from constant use and power. It had become the Chaos Bursting Fireball.

As the ball of heat left his palm, it separated itself in multiple orbs of chaotic magma, each large enough to be considered a Fire Orb by itself. One pack of beowolves and Ursas was melted on the spot, the young ones at least. Not wanting to let them attack yet, he rose his blade up and concentrated power at the tip of his Blue Flame, before swiping to the side releasing of energy, a modified form of the White Dragon Breath, encasing his enemies into crystals that bore through their flesh and bones, damaging whatever organs that they possessed in the process and giving a most painful death. They later exploded away, the crystals separating into tiny bits before disappearing.

The Faunus that were being protected. looked at their benefactor in awe and intimidated at the same time. This warrior defeated two packs in just two attacks, roaring his strength in full display at his opponents.

The Grimm started to retreat, but as the knights helmet turned to the side spotting them, he jumped high at the air and plunged his full weight on a beowolf, passing the blade through its torso and heart before effortlessly spinning to the side and slicing the dead body in two, onto another beowolf. Using the momentum of his adrenaline, he leapt once more into the air and attacked an Ursa, severing one of its front legs before jumping backwards, avoiding a swipe from the other Ursa next to it. As if imitating Gael perfectly, he fell to the floor before taking another leap forward, taking aim with his blade before lunging forward and skewering both monsters on his silver blade.

The remaining Grimm that were outside of the slaughter of the ebony warrior returned back to the forest, running away from this spirit of anger towards them. Alas, their efforts were in vain as one by one, they were hit by arrows of lightning, piercing their flesh and electrifying them. The bodies of the deceased monsters were slowly being evaporated into the air, their ambush had failed miserably and the ebony warrior had a bow made of lightning itself on his left hand. He waved his hand away, making the furiously chirping energy bow dissipate, before motioning them to continue following him.

That day, it was more than enough evidence to them, this warrior was strong, stronger than them or even the beasts. To attack him is to face death itself, They had been lucky to not had attacked him out of the blue or brought his wrath onto them. They feared him, his power and aura was enough to send chills down their spines and yet he decided to take them to a safe place, to protect them along the way as well.

Fifth day came, they can now see animals going around the forest. They followed the river upstream, fishes were visible to them and the water was clean. The events from yesterday were still fresh on their mind, making interactions with the stranger hard. Yet the whining of the kids and the old caught his ears as he halted on his track and turned his helmet in their direction. They felt as though he was going to punish them for complaining so much, yet he sat down next to a tree trunk.

"Rest." He spoke to them as he gestured them to sit down. They complied willingly and sat down on the soft grass, the older generation was thankful for him to let them take a breather. The kids saw the river and had asked the man with the wolf tail if they could play on the river.

He wasn't sure so with shaky legs, he carried himself towards the armored figured and gestured the kids to the river. There was silence and no motion except his helmet turning towards the kids and river. He gave a nod to them, their eyes were sparkling of joy before they ran towards the stream and started to play on the water, cooling off their feet and playing happily, the most noteworthy thing for the knight it was their smile. Before it was impossible to see a child like them smile, their sad eyes were the only things that he could see to them, but now a small hope had them see past the darkness to a better future.

Fruit was blooming not so far from them, apples and pears it seemed. This was a much needed godsend as their food supplies were very, very low. Still, they were surviving better thanks to the assistance of the ebony knight. With animals around, they could start to hunt for some meat, yet they couldn't exactly start camp here, not yet. If what the knight pointed towards a place where they could live, then they needed to keep moving. A small break was all that they needed for them to have the strength to move once more. When the sun had reached the highest point, the warrior stood up and signaled them to follow him. The journey was not finished yet.

When the afternoon of the sixth day came, humans had started to look at the group from far away. Looking at them one by one, counting them and analyzing them. A small group for them to kill, the human form of the creatures of darkness needed to be cleansed from the earth, so that their chances of survival would increase two fold.

However, when their eyes laid onto the ebony warrior, they had second thoughts. This was the same warrior that had killed thousands of their comrades every time they attempted to kill him, and no amount of precise strikes would hurt him. There was simply no way possible with physical weapons, so one of them had an idea to bring the behemoth down.

One person rose a small red crystal in the air, the size of a pebble and gripped it. Heat started to emanate from his palm before fire was conjured, it wasn't overly big, just enough to engulf his head. He then signaled the other members to do the same before they started to throw fire balls from above to hit the group. Their malicious intent was so large, that they didn't notice that the Grimm were sensing their feelings.

The Faunus scrambled together, desperately trying to evade the incoming bombardment that was raining from the sky. The knight rose his left gauntlet, letting the flame extinguish before a large ominous red shield, protecting anyone that was behind him. The elderly and children had moved to his rear, making him take all the damage, while the adults had taken cover onto the trees with some of the children.

It was an intense five minute mortar attack, before everything became silent. Dissipating his shield, he brought his flame once more to life and gestured them to follow him. Some of the members had an acute sense of smell and trusted his judgement to proceed. The smell of blood was in the air, it wasn't much to think than that their enemy had already been taken care of by something or someone else.

They traveled under the night sky, carrying the children on their backs and at a more leisure pace. The group wanted to camp a few ways back, but the knight signaled them to keep going. There was a foul feeling in his instinct and more of the time that led to unfortunate circumstances. The twins from the first day were almost collapsing from their exhausting march, so much so that the elder sister kept trying to stay awake while carrying her brother, before falling onto the floor.

Hearing the sudden thud noise made the knight stop and turned his helmet to see over his shoulder, he saw the two children that had fallen down and how much the rest of the group were faring. Grabbing a stick, he used his flame to light it and give it to the leader of the group to light the way for them. He walked towards the children that had fallen and picked them up on his arms, making sure that his flame was gone for safe carrying.

Signaling the leader, he went in front of the knight and headed the same way as he was going. They were close to the stream, so he thought that they just needed to keep going up.

When dawn came, the group was thoroughly exhausted from walking so much, but when the knight stopped them, he pointed ahead for them to see. It was a great waterfall that let the stream continue, but most importantly there was a mountain that cupped the entrance to such a place and with plenty of space to create a village, maybe even a city. There was no creatures of the darkness around the place nor any humans had touched such sanctuary. The stream had clean water and fish for them, animals were near the place and some trees bore fruit not too far away.

It was all so beautiful, so spacious and so full of positive energy that they barely could believe it. This place was safe for them to stay, a place away from the dangers that the world had against them. A few of the adults fell down to their knees, not believing that such a place existed. Their troubles, their effort and their constant caution had now given them their reward. But to really accentuate to them that the land is now theirs, the knight gently put the children that he was carrying on the floor, took two steps forward and the gestured them the whole land and the pointed to them. This land was theirs now.

Some chuckled weakly before laughter came and some tears were shed. The got their break in the world, all that they needed to do now was to build their foundations and erect their village to live.

The leader of the group approached the knight and got on his knees, saying something of his tongue his appreciation for the benevolent giant for his tremendous help on getting them to safety. A hand soon landed on his shoulder, prompting him to look up to him. The next gesture would be made clear to him.

"I'll stay. Protect." He gestured to his sheathed blade to him then to the land. He was going to offer his services to this group and ensure their survival, even if he has to postpone his journey for now. The knight did not need to help them, but his morals were stronger than him. His efforts of maintaining and raising these people would surely bloom into the start of a new thing. A new age.

The leader, still overcome with emotion, jumped at the neck of the behemoth and hugged him. The knight, never before had hugged a person before hesitated. He brought an arm to hug the person, but then stopped himself thinking that he might get too attached to him. He just let the young adult thank you multiple times as hard as he could on the gentle giant.


	5. Faunus Village (I)

Apologies for taking so long to update this story. I has been difficult to do so, since I've been busy with many obstacles, mainly with internships and school, but most importantly on how to tell this story. People tend to have high expectations to these interesting stories, however, with expectation comes pressure, not from you guys, but mainly thoughts on, if this chapter is not on par with the previous ones or, if I rushed any part of it or even, if what I'm putting here is excessive.

You've waited since December, and only a few weeks ago, have I been able to slowly build this chapter until now. The chapter has become so big, that I needed to divide it into 3 parts, not equally otherwise it wouldn't much sense if I cut it halfway and then sent the rest of the part into another chapter.

Do enjoy the chapters, I do hope you do so.

* * *

Vale: 880 years prior of the Great War

In the blink of an eye, twenty years passed since he promised these animal people that he'd teach and protect them. True to his word, the village has skipped an age entirely, no longer would they be using makeshift tools, flimsy spears and bows, mud houses and lack of training.

The knight first taught them how to build actual homes instead of mud huts or the tribal version of a home. Wooden logs and rocks were their homes made off, giving a much more comfort feeling of security than before. This innovation of a house was made to each family through the first couple of months, even though they had to still take shelter in their old design.

Through those first couple of months, they have been learning slowly his divine language, step by step. Simple words were still difficult to understand, so they opted to continue with gestures from him.

During the first winter, where they adopted the fireplace as a godsend from their savior, they noticed that, through the rain and the cold of snow, he always stood outside, never complaining of the conditions, never lost track of his duty to protect them. Make it sheer determination or an overwhelming sense of duty, they could never display to him how grateful they felt at his service. That winter, no one had died from the cold, or hunger or even against the night creatures that plagued the land.

In spring of the first year with the knight, he taught a handful of people how to lay traps to capture prey and how to prepare their meat for a meal. Normally, they would know this already thanks to being in a clan before, however his way was much more efficient than theirs and so they adopted his teachings into themselves. While hunting still took a considerable amount of time to catch a prey, their chances to be successful had definitely increased to a large extent.

With the waterfall and river, fishing was popular as well, especially for those that had more feline appendages. However, fearing that over fishing and hunting would affect the ecosystem, the knight would advise them to only hunt what was needed and to let small fish go. That way, they would have a stable supply of food as they waited for their farms would bear fruit in their vegetables.

Autumn in the third year came, as they spent more time with him, they could now convey simple words to him. They grew fond of calling him, Guardian, due to him constantly making sure that they were safe. Some even refer to him as, Divine One, though the warrior prefers not to be called that, out of contempt that he'd be referred as Gwyn was once.

It was truly strange to him. His twenty years of the last tribe, he barely spoke a word, barely interacted except with the want to help them in their hunting and food gathering as their guard. While the other one viewed him more as an outsider as he should be considered one, this one was much more inviting now that he was talking more with them. It felt odd for the Knight.

During that time, he gave them the gift of the forge. Although impossible at the time to have jumped so far, he already thought it out to himself how he would help in such a matter. In his time, he had learned on how to up keep his gear with a simple black smith set, however they did not have any way to heat up the minerals that were from the mountain side, especially the iron and cooper deposits that were a few ways away from the village.

Hence, for the time being, he gave an individual that had an eye for the craft that he was introducing to them. Having memories of how different flames could change a weapon, he parted a small part of his flame as a catalyst for the forge instead of wood and coal.

"Once you have gained enough experience and time favors you, I'll return to what was mine. For now, the village comes first." Though hard to understand him, the individual, which would later be called the village Blacksmith Rune, understood him. The guardian has offered him a chance to be useful to his friends in this strange, but fascinating craft. Through examples of the mineral ore and where to find it, tools of iron were now available to the village and such, weapons were made as well.

Gathering the minerals was a tough task, however with the great ones help, they made a simple wooden wheel barrel and cart. This simple yet effective invention made it easier for them to carry the heavy load with only some effort needed.

Although they had skipped the copper age, with his even enlighten guidance, he had taught the blacksmith how hardened clay would make a fine mold in order to create tools and weapons.

Hatchets of iron to chop down trees, knives to gather plants that they grew in the village and to gather materials, pickaxes to mine the ores, butcher knives to prepare the meat, shovels to change the earth and hoes to tilt the soil. But most of all, they had improved their weapons considerably.

Spears with an iron tip with treated wood for longer use, bows refined through the knowledge of the Guardian and arrows that could soar through the sky where they hit their target true and their will even truer.

But most of all, in homage to their savior, they prepared blades of iron. Although not as impressive as his weapons, they were sturdy enough to wield and strong enough to pierce the flesh of the nightmarish creatures, and leather armor created from the forge increased their chances to survive. The age of Iron had been gifted to the people.

At that time, the blades were reserved to certain people by the guardians orders. These would be called by the villagers 'Disciples of the Sword', for they would be taught personally by him the way to train with the blade and how to move more easily with their armors.

These people were young, at least 18 of age, and some adults raging between 30 to 40, the village chief, the wolf Faunus that hugged the knight, joined as well per his directions. The two young ones that he carried towards the village had also joined to help how they could, however, due to their age still being a minor, the eldest being 15 at the time, they kept doing farm work before officially joining the rest.

The knight was not the leader of the village, he didn't want that grand of a responsibility, not to mention he was not like them. For him, the person that approached him first, would be a far better candidate. As such, the wolf Faunus, now apply named Fenrir from their old clan, spent a long time with the warrior of the night, learning his language that fascinated him. In the second year, he was able to understand the Guardian much more than the rest and as such, the knight had been able to understand him as well.

Though the village chief was the one to guide the people, it was the warrior that advised him on their next action, prioritizing their survival and learning over anything else. As much as he wanted to search for more survivors of their clan, the knight would state that it would be better to not pursue them. That at this time, if they still have survived somehow, they would not have the strength to carry much longer.

A couple of months later, three elders of the village were at death's doors. While grief was struck for a few families that knew them well, the knight waited beside them for death to come. He was not shirking his patrols, he simply understood what it meant to die a lonely death. This action put the elders minds at peace, for at least they had a friend beside them at the end.

Their bodies would then be taken to the highest point of the village and lit aflame with the Guardian's fire. He'd knee down and offer a prayer to their souls and so that they might find peace in the afterlife that he could not partake, those that came to the funeral imitated the Knight and offered their prayers as well.

The seventh year came and such their education had started to become much more invested, as new children started to be birthed. Their Guardian introduced to them Parchment, a writing material from untanned skins of animals, mainly those that they hunted. And as a way to write, they would use charcoal to write down. This was another revolution that they didn't fully understand at the beginning, however, it was soon popularized within the village as a way to record events, and most importantly, to translate their language with their savior.

It was this the way the village was much more attuned with the Divine One's language, able to understand him and for the next generation to be able so. At that time, the Village Chief and the Guardian had made an alphabet of both languages into a book having examples on what objects and items would be called. The parchment would've been sewed with the outer layer being tanned leather with some letters to the side to differentiate the different books.

For the next couple of months, the village had evolved to such a state that if someone were to look at it from outside they'd see an advanced village. Better conditions for life, better education, better weapons and tools and most of all, better defenses.

However, as time progressed they became more established as a prime location for raiders. They had all the resources that they never dreamed of, however they kept at bay because of the giant that stood strong at protecting the village. Made it night or day, he was always on duty on his patrols, only resting on the bonfire that he lit everyday.

Humans are greedy by nature and as such they attacked the village to the weeks and months to come. to come where they were having a peaceful time. Truly a mistake of the foolish as their forces of thirty five were annihilated by the 'Disciples of the Sword' led by the Black Knight. Some of them were Faunus, people that the old members of the village actually knew, where they captured them and some humans as well, at least those that surrendered. They had a rope around their neck, meaning that they were slaves and put up to attack them for survival.

Except on one day, after 4 months of failed attempts from the raiders, there was a request from the people.

The village chief and the 'Disciples' asked, nay, begged the guardian to spare their lives, to take them in the village and heal their slave life and trauma that they had against the humans.

The knight spoke no word and knelt down to evaluate these people that were captured. The slaves Faunus looked tired, sick and so malnourished that their chances of survival were the bare minimal. The humans on the other hand, were looking at everyone with a contempt look, if anything they seemed to revolt at anyone.

One was foolish enough to attack the giant with a stone weapon that he had stashed under his ragged clothes with a thunderous roar, passing through the blades where they were assured that they had successfully captured the people.

As soon as the stone knife hit the giants back, it broke in half almost instantly. The human looked incredulous at his weapon being broken so easily before the giants gauntlet, the one always lit aflame, grabbed his head. What was once flame now was an ominous energy that was filled with ill intent. As he hoisted the man in the air as he rose up, the human struggled in his grip, a white light shone through the hand as the life within the human was drained, his scream of pain diminished into a hollow moan before being dropped lifeless.

To make sure that any other humans wouldn't try to do something so foolish again, he stomped on his last kills head, as dust escaped into the wind. The opposition was terrified of such fate that any embers of rebellion at the time were quickly snuffed.

These actions that their Guardian would do, were deemed as necessary, as he judged his foes with actions than any ill words thrown at them. Those that are struck down by him was through his will to protect the Faunus that was under him, and they understood it well. What they didn't like seeing, was the fate of his enemies.

They took their prisoners back into the village and the Guardian and Chief would discuss their fate to come. Meanwhile, they would be stationed inside a home that they built for such purposes, humans and Faunus were separated to not have an in fight between them. All 10 prisoners, 4 humans and 6 Faunus, were amply guarded by two 'Disciples' with a rotation each hour to relieve their duty.

* * *

"You would spare the people that hunted you down and those that follow them, just because they were in your clan from before? You do understand that they just attempted to attack this village, raiding our hard earned resources, taking away the lives that have become peaceful for so long and raping the women as they please?" The Knight spoke as bluntly as he could towards his decision.

"But our kind had no choice, Guardian! You've saw the rope on them, have you not? They had do so in order to survive, otherwise they'd be dead by the hands that fed them, if they did!" Fenrir talked with increase haste, as he wanted to defend his kind.

"That kind of thinking will bring ruin to the village, to the Faunus that reside here. Your wish to shelter the clan that not only abandoned you for their own survival, but the humans that actively hunt your kind for what purpose? To make them work and seek redemption from their greedy actions? To attempt to establish a bond between races?" He asked, wanting to hear an answer to these questions.

"We've listened to your advise before and abandoned the thought of looking more for our kind, despite how we wished to see if more survivors were around for us to save. But now that we DID found more people, under the guidance of humans, we are certain that they are out there! We can bring them back here where it's safe, teach them, save them from the harsh world outside where humans and those black creatures roam!

The humans will pay for their deeds, but it'll be through just means and not through hate, that way all of us can be equal." The wolf Faunus wanted to save their lives from the cruelty of humans and the world, yet the Knight spoke something that caught his words in his throat.

"Saving everyone is a disillusion, peace is merely an illusion. Saving them, means to have more mouths to feed, more people to live here and more importantly, more people to revolt against those of power. You have a heart of gold, Fenrir, but that same heart will bleed more than you'd think with that kindness of yours. Humans are... very, very stubborn creatures. They will think that they are the master race, viewing yours as under them for decades, maybe even centuries to come.

Even if you try your best into making peace with both races, there will always be a clear distinction between the both of you. Just as you and your race clearly act different with me, despite me being no higher nor lower than you."

"B-but you are higher than us! You taught us so much that our lives changed so much! You are our savior and our greatest teacher of life! Surely, you could teach the humans, as you taught us, to be together with no borders to set us apart, can't you? I don't want to lose my brother again..."

"..." The Guardian, didn't respond. Teach he can, but changing a race to think differently is another topic on itself. So far, humans have been a constant threat to them and to him, being overly violent and greed struck in them. Even if he could change them, their nature would not be so easily manipulated.

As such, he decided on an ultimatum.

"You'll speak my words to them and if by some miracle they do change, know that these seeds that you are aiming to plant will be developed only by your effort only. I'll continue my role as an adviser to your ways and still a teacher and a scholar to understand this world, but the end result will not be decided by me. It'll be by you and the people of the village."

Fenrir bowed his head down with an appreciation of a life time as they left his home and approached the confinement of their prisoners. The 'Disciples' saluted towards their teacher as they let the both of them pass.

Once inside, the humans and slave Faunus looked horrifyingly to the beast that took the life essence of their comrade, and trembled in fear as they thought that their time had arrived. With a gesture to Fenrir, he bowed his head before waiting for the behemoth to speak to convey his words.

"You shall not perish today." Fenrir said in their native tongue after the Knight spoke. This set both parties to be disbelief of such words. "You will stay in this village under supervision for a 30 days. If in that time you show ANY hostile intent towards any of the villagers, I'll personally end your life like your friend, either by fire or the same fate as before.

You will work here, you will learn here. You shall be fed and live like any other villager. After those 30 days, if you show interest in living here, then you shall live. However, if you wish to leave, then you must swear an oath of silence. Never to speak of this place and if you plan to return, you must come in secrecy for the well being of the village.

Fail to do so and bring harm to the village that spared you and I will walk until the end of the world and hunt you down, bringing you the most painful death imaginable. What your comrade had was a mercy killing as an example. You will suffer a fate crueler than anything imaginable.

Are. We. Clear." It was not an order or a question, but a threat to them. Intimidation was a strong factor to ensure that they would not make such a mistake in his presence, as his threats would most likely be carried out.

"How... How did you get such a strong ally? Or did you become his lapdog, you filthy weakling..." One of the Faunus growled towards Fenrir, he had the same wolfish limbs as the village chief, the only difference was that his was much more wild.

"We didn't become below our Savior, brother. Yes, he took us under his wing, we were weak back then, as you abandoned us into the wilderness to a gruesome death, either by the humans or the creatures of the abyss. But he showed us mercy, he showed us kindness to our plight.

The clans tradition was that the strong ones were the ones to be favored, to guide our kind to greener pastures. Yet, what did you do when you saw that I was wounded? When the elderly, the children that lacked the will to fight and the people that were hungry from you gaining all of the food for yourselves? You took the strongest warriors to fight the humans and attempt to take their camp to yourselves.

You gave an empty promise that you'd bring us back once the fight was over. But I knew better, we all knew it. After the first two days with minimal supplies, we knew that you either died or got enslaved.

On the third night, the Guardian appeared. He guided us to this land that we now call home, he offered protection which he himself put his well being over the line for us, he taught us ways to improve our village, ways to get food, to make tools and weapons to ease our burden, ways for us to record our thoughts and experiences and he even went his way to teach us his Divine Tongue.

He has given us more than our old ways have ever done. We still hold our customs and traditions, as HE never sought to dissuade us from carrying them and always kept a watchful eye to see if we ever got hurt.

Call us lapdogs all you want, call us weak all you want. But the truth will always be present here. We aren't slaves to the divine one, we are free to choose what we want to do and it is through his advice that we prosper now. We are a true unity from our former selves and it all leads to the act of kindness of our Guardian." Fenrir spoke in a noble fashion to his kin in their native tongue. Perhaps it was with the time that he spent with the Guardian, but his speech has evolved greatly, such is a necessity as the vilage chief.

"How can we really trust that he won't kill us the moment that we leave this stone cage that we are in? Or even those oddly decorated and equipped Kin of ours? For all I know, you're trying to put me beneath you for my failed attempt to return back victorious."

"Victorious? Speak for yourself, animal. Attacking at broad daylight was your biggest mistake! We had the position advantage, the tools to counter your flimsy attack and even the numbers to overpower you. You were nothing but a foolish beast trying to show off to the heavens where nobody was watching you back." One of the humans spoke, demeaning the older Faunus brother from his failed achievement.

"Shut up, you filthy human! You attack our clan despite us trying to be peaceful with our ways! We needed revenge to what you've done to our kin, to our parents and grandparents! To the children that you killed and to the land that you've sullied!"

"Oh and you're acting innocent when it was actually you that threw the first spear! We knew that you attacked our tribe, as one of our scouts were found dead in a puddle of their blood with fur akin to one of your kin! We returned the favor back!"

"Why you-"

"ENOUGH." With voice loud enough to rattled their beings, they turned their attention towards the giant that stabbed the ground with his long sword. "Quarrels with each other are forbidden, lest you wish for your end to come swiftly. You shall be released of this confinement once I summon my 'Disciples' to patrol the village and to keep a steady eye on your behavior. They will report to me and Fenrir if you've done anything that can be considered that you've troubled the village, and if by chance you try to escape from your punishment, you shall be killed on the spot by them or me.

Fenrir, bring two warriors here to release them. Now, their lives are under your responsibility." The last part was directed to the chief while the other part was translated to the prisoners. Once the Knight left the holding cell for him to continue with his duties, the village chief looked at them before speaking.

"For your own well being, don't do anything that would make the Guardian angry. Don't act idiotic and you will live a normal life here. Please... Don't waste this second opportunity that you've earned." He asked them as he did not want them to perish before he could mend the shaky relationships between humans and Faunus.

"Mark my words, brother... when these thirty days have passed, I WILL challenge the one you call Guardian and make him bow to me!"

"Then you will die, dear brother." He replied with certainty to him. "Our Guardian was adamant of killing all of you for the safety of the village, but I convinced him to spare you. He won't hesitate to kill you, brother Lorth. I have seen first hand on the magnitude of his strength, and he is by far the strongest being around here, able to smite hordes of the nightmarish creatures, can you do the same? Can you kill that many without dropping a spill of blood on you and only having a scratch or two on your clothes?"

Lorth grew silent as the words of his coward brother seeped deep with the conviction of his expression. If that monstrosity could kill them without much effort, what chance he could to defeat such a strong opponent? Still, the ember of rebellion grew in him, so he decided to bid his time, gather strength and then strike at the giant clad in darkness, as a wolf Faunus of his clan should.

* * *

As the month progressed, the slaved Faunus seemed to adapt poorly to this new age of improvement upon them. They were fed good food, they were offered a place to stay and they were helping the villagers with the farming, wood gathering, ore mining and fishing, while learning more of the land. Every once in a while, they'd notice that the armed forces of the village would take a glance of them, every time the started using the iron tools provided for them.

While the slaves understood the wood gathering, ore was odd for them. That was until they noticed the craft of the village blacksmith, understanding that the tools and weapons from the village came from this one Faunus named Rune that knew the craft, yet was still using a notebook as reference from the Guardian to make the tools, the rest of the time he was experimenting, attempting to create something new for his own satisfaction.

Lorth was having a closer eye on the behemoth, noting that most of the time he spent it with his 'Disciples of the Sword', enforcing their training and orders to patrol the village, rotating the effort with them and even help the villagers in things like materials much to heavy to carry and to reach high places.

The children seem to like him as well, though they seem a bit apprehensive to approach him in two occasions from the villagers talk to talk.

The first one would be at the river's bed, where he is seen doing something there. When he confronted his brother on that regard, Fenrir responded to him that the Guardian was cultivating a plant that he knew, but that was all he could offer with information.

The other time that the people refused to approach him, unless absolutely necessary, would be when he's sitting on a bonfire that he lights up. He just sits on a trunk with his blade out and putting his arms on the guard with his head low. Confused as to why he would do that, he questioned the villagers as well, to which they had the answer to that.

According to them, he does so to rest. As, their Guardian can go for weeks working tirelessly, however he is also like them, needing time to rest and recuperate. Though, the last time that someone sneaked on him, he grabbed them and put them down on the ground so fast that they didn't feel the cold steel on their throat. All they got was a warning that the next time, he wouldn't hesitate on killing them.

Lorth thought that the only time that he could challenge the monster of dark, would be before he would head towards his spot as he would be tired enough to fight effectively, meaning that he could fight at full strength and possibly wound him.

* * *

As the Knight was heading towards his usual spot at the bonfire to rest, he was stopped as Lorth approached him with a weapon in hand. If it was any other villager, they would be apprehensive, but he just saw this as a non-threat.

"You! I want to challenge you!" He announced with confidence towards the armored behemoth, his spirit not faltering one bit.

"...Is that truly what you wish, kin of Fenrir? It will be a very difficult battle for you to attempt, if my 'Disciples' cannot seem to reach me, despite of my size." He asked with a tired tone as he went another week of patrol and killing more the creatures of darkness.

"Now is the perfect time to test out what you really are made of! I'm not as spineless as those that train under you, afraid that if they make one wrong move you'll end them in an instant." He told with confidence to boost.

The Guardian surprised to hear those words, slowly looked to the side to see one of his students avoiding eye contact with him, sweating a bit from the words that Lorth spoke.

"I see... That would explain the reason why they have failed to improve with me..." He thought to himself as returned his gaze back to the wolf Faunus. "You have my attention, Lorth. Follow me to the training grounds, there we shall duel." As he spoke the Faunus name, he seemed to swell more in pride as he was acknowledged in his eyes.

Once there, the 'Disciples' saluted him and let both of the pass into the training ground, which was a small section of the village surrounded with grass, except the middle since the amount of training made the ground pummeled, having dirt on it.

"The rules are simple, first one to fall twice will be the winner. You are free to use any trick and any kind of advantage you think you can have. Your weapon will be the one that my 'disciples' use against the beasts outside, as to letting you have a chance to damage me. Whenever you're ready, do say so." He finished speaking as he pulled out his Blue Flame, letting the light shine onto his steel blade along it's intricate design.

"He's looking down on me... But not for long, because he's obviously exhausted from his patrols. I'll make sure to show them that he is just a phony with an big build. Orda! Fillo!" He called for two Faunus slaves that were with him, they nodded their heads and equipped themselves as well.

"A three on one? Then that guy that you animals call Guardian will surely go down, I can at least vouch that those three are tough people." One of the humans commented, the leader of the squad that he failed to carry.

"Then you know nothing of our savior and teacher. He is... a force of nature itself." One of the older 'disciples', replied to the human, his hands trembled a bit at the phantom blows that his arms can still feel.

"I'd like to see that then, you animal. If he's like any of you, then he'd be a natural at this."

"We... don't know how he looks. He never bothered taking his helmet off. To this day, even after 5 years, we don't know his face. Although, we can safely say, that he isn't like us. He's... something higher."

"Oi, you that looks like one of those dark beasts! We're ready, let's get this over with." Lorth entered a low stance, same one with Orda and Fillo. The Knight looked up on the air, letting the wind pass through, his cape gently flutter.

As he slowly dropped his eyes on them, they felt an increase pressure resonating from him, it didn't help that his left hand flared up with a bright ominous flame and that he walked with clanking steps towards them with a threatening aura upon him.

"Hey Fillo... are you feeling what I'm feeling?" Orda asked, just to make sure he wasn't the only one.

"Y-yeah... We haven't even started fighting yet, but seeing him coming towards us with the intent to hurting us... I feels like we're just overstepped into a beasts lair."

"Grow a spine you two! He's just one guy! Now man up and let's go!" He lead them as they rushed towards their current opponent, yet when they were already in range to hit the giant, they rolled backwards.

His blade, true and splendor with his movements, slashed the ground at such sheer strength that the ground was carved in a arc. This made them drop in a cold sweat, as if they tried to block with their weapons, they'd surely feel the recoil of that massive attack.

The knight, still in his calm and collected form, kept a steady eye on them and slowly moved in a circle around them. The three opponents did the same, not wanting him to be closer to them if they had to engage him again.

However, Lorth with his bravado charged forward. He spun his sword in a diagonal arc over his left shoulder, making the knight rise his hand. He expected to hit the giant, only to be blocked by an ominous shield of malicious nature.

"Foolish." The Knight commented, before his opponent was delivered a powerful kick that made him skip on the floor before sliding onto Orda and Fillo. The two of them were horrified that a simple kick packed so much power behind it, enough to send his companion all the way back to them. "Are you afraid, slaves of ignorance and of fools?"

The question was directed at them, yet the words were hard to understand, they weren't as well versed in his tongue, yet they could hear the meaning. They rose up their weapons, Orda with a spear and shield, Fillo with an axe two handing it.

"Good... even with fear you still have the spirit to fight. How you are good examples to your peers." He looked at his 'disciples' in the area, to which they looked away in shame that they could not replicate their attitude as they were afraid to displease their savior and also the thought of their life to end short. "Come then, show me your resolve, old Faunus of the clan of the wolf."

They gave a battle cry as they charged in, one trying to stab the guardian of the village, while the other swing wildly. Orda missed every attack as the knight was able to dodge them with smooth moves, giving only little effort on his part. Fillo was being blocked by the strange ominous shield painting the air in front of the Knight's gauntlet with waves of crimson.

"You bastard!" Lorth roared as he stood up and rushed forward as well, jumping above Fillo and Orda with his blade already ready to strike mid air. However, with a quick and decisive strike from the guardian's pommel onto his gut after he missed his attack, he doubled over before falling on the ground clutching his stomach.

Fillo and Orda tried to cover his leader, only for the both of them to be picked up by his left extinguished gauntlet. Visions of what happened before a few weeks ago rushed into their head as the husk of their comrade still remained fresh in their minds. Struggling with panic, they tried to let the tyrants grip loosen enough for them to drop down and escape to safety, but they weren't strong enough to escape.

Instead, the Guardian threw them away from him and Lorth, their weapons fell onto the ground as they were launched towards a nearby tree.

"Stand up, brother of Fenrir." He spoke with audible discontent towards the Faunus. "Your brother spoke highly of you to me in the past, boasting that you were the strongest of your clan. This cannot be all that you can do, so rise. Or will you stay on the ground like the humans want you to? Just to be a mere animal in their eyes?" He coaxed him, aggravating more of the person on the ground, spiking his rage over and over.

Lorth had the build of a strong warrior, he ,however, did not have the correct mindset of a leader. He was not as kind as Fenrir or as cooperative as the villagers and his 'disciples', but one thing that he had was a stronger willpower than most and the most talent in fighting.

He grunted as he put his knee up, looked up at the black giant with eyes filled rage, in an unexpected turn, a red aura started to radiate from Lorth, surprising everyone, except the Knight, which seemed more intrigued than anything.

"Odd..." He commented as Lorth burst forward with increased speed and power than before. The knight, was taken aback at the sheer change of strength and speed, however he was able to dodge him nonetheless.

He put his sword up, clashing metal against metal, creating sparks as they were in a stand still. While Lorth was struggling to push forward, the guardian was measuring the strength from before to now.

With a quick gesture, he had effortlessly swiped Lorth on his back and prepared his blade to give little damage on the small animal, only for some kind of wall to absorb his strike from the back, while making Lorth fall down on the ground on a knee and turning around angrily.

"Are you done having fun with me, you monster?" He growled at him while the Knight was thinking to himself before returning to his stance once more, he wanted to see something and for that, he decided to treat him as a threat.

He rose his blade in the air and let his soul energy flow through it, at the tip he pointed towards wolf Faunus. Sensing danger, he started to run to the side as a fast as he could, before the Knight released Farron Hail, with the potency of a Great Farron Dart, scattering numerous darts into the training field, while pointing towards the ground as to not hurt the onlookers.

Lorth ran and dodged as best as he could, but he could not escape unscathed as he was clipped multiple times on his barrier, effectively making him more tired than before, though he did spit some blood into the ground from the earlier attacks, even though he didn't seem hurt at all, as if he was regenerating his wounds.

Retrieving his inverted dragon chime, he mumbled a small prayer as a white disc formed in his hand, this was the Way of White Corona, not the most powerful miracle, but through the years, the knight as reached the same level as Gael and scattered five big white discs at the fleeing Faunus, at the same time, he was mumbling a second prayer, charging a small lightning spear, not releasing it just yet and simply increasing it's power and numbers.

Lorth ducked under the white discs and sprinted forward with bravado and attempted to attack the guardian while he charged this attempt at a new prayer, just as Lorth was about to hit him, his senses flared up and he looked back to see the discs returning back. He jumped high in the air, higher than any other person that has ever done so, and also the one mistake that he shouldn't have done.

With his prayer finished, he aimed up high in the air and threw it with a magnitude of strength, shooting right past over the shoulder of Lorth. Just as he was beginning to act arrogant at the giants mistake he heard thousands of birds chirping behind him and it dawned him. Looking behind him in mid air, he saw the lightning spear fall down and separate into hundreds of small spears raining, homing their tips at the experienced Faunus.

Yes, this is the Splintering Lightning Spear that the knight had learned in his time in Drangleic, except this was an improved version where he took inspiration from the Soul of Cinder that he fought. As the spears crashed down onto his adversary, his 'disciples' were awestruck at the abilities in their savior while also feeling terrified at what Lorth was experiencing as he fell down onto the floor with visible bruises, his red aura flickered in and out before shattering like glass.

The Knight walked forward towards the exhausted Faunus, while Orda and Fillo used each other to get back on their feet before charging forward to protect their leader, only to be swatted to the side with a strong arm from this overwhelming warrior. As he towered over Lorth, the Faunus in a last ditch effort tried to attack the knight with his blade, but in a single motion his blade was slashed upwards, flying in the sky before stabbing firmly in the dirt a few feet away from them.

With a quick kick, he forced Lorth to lie on his back before stomping the rebellious wolf Faunus in his chest, adding weight down into his ribs and pointing his silver blade at the persons neck.

"Submit." The Knight said with authority towards him. Lorth could only grit his teeth as he tried to get the foot that was putting pressure on his chest to the side.

"D-damn it..!" He cursed as his attempt didn't even budge the foot an inch. "Why... why are you so strong? Who are you and what the hell are you even!?" He screamed at the behemoth in darkness, in which he replied in a tone unheard of in the village.

"I have no name, not anymore. As to what I am... I want to believe that I still have a semblance of being a human. "He responded with a sad tone to the wolf Faunus as he took his foot off of him. "This is your loss, brother of Fenrir. However, don't feel discouraged from facing me. From everyone in the village, you were the one that put more effort in battles than the others, stronger as well. Take pride in that thought."

As the guardian left to return to his rest in the bonfire, Fenrir approached his brother that was still on the ground, wanting to move but too tired to do so.

"Even in his tired state, he completely overpowered the three of you while still offering mercy upon you. Was it worth it, brother? To put on the line the second chance for a foolish reason as to put our Guardian in his place?"

"Foolish? Maybe. But it was more than worth it. Even with the odds against him, he still overcame them without breaking a sweat. He's truly a strong guy, but he's not arrogant like those humans over there. This fight... It was clarifying experience. Odd... I feel... different." Lorth said as he felt strangely light.

"Different you say? Well, you look different right now." He said in an almost cocky way to his older sibling.

"Don't push it, shrimp. At least I didn't abandon our families ways." He pointed at him in a traitorous way.

"I'm not a fighter like you brother. I like thinking things through and seeing the logic in things. The Guardian saw this in me and saw me fit to lead this village, while he would do the dangerous work of protecting us. I still feel bad that I can't help our savior in more ways, but he never once complained about his work. Unlike you, when you always complained to mother and father about my shortcomings and you wanting to be in the front line.

Your leadership skills in a group of 3 or 4 may be good, but for a village that mainly wants peace, they are the worst. Our Guardian has the potenticial to lead us, but he doesn't want to, because our kind should be lead by someone that is of our own. It sets the people at ease to know that it is not a human, but one of our own that we know in the past. He listens to our problems and if he finds a solution he speaks it to me. Unlike you, dear brother."

"Geh... Was I really that bad of a leader to our village?"

"Brother... we starved while you warriors ate your fill. Our Guardian doesn't hog the food, in fact, he'd give his share to us to eat so that we don't end up hungry. He gave us a place to sleep in comfort, not into freezing caves like you led. He brought us to safety, something that you never did as we had to fend for ourselves during the day and night." He answered with all the negative points towards him, but before his brother could say anything else, he said one more thing. "The only good thing, was that we were still together. At the very least, I could stay with you, but not until the end."

"..." He didn't answered as his mind was now overburden with the conversation and fighting at the same time. That was the day that made Lorth slowly start to change, he still held his rebellious attitude, but he was more open to what his brother would say.


	6. Faunus Village (II)

After the battle with Lorth, the humans and other captive Faunus were much more inclined to cooperate with the village instead of being as rebellious as the foolish wolf Faunus, even though the humans tried to instill the villagers to rebel against their guardian, they soon found out that their efforts would come undone in an instant, as they'd rather have them beheaded than to try a fight against their savior.

In their time there, they were able to pick up the vocabulary of the master of the place within the leather journals that they borrowed from the village. The writing and language of a great one with their own vocabulary was almost a godsend as they absorbed the knowledge slowly, understanding the giant who provided such knowledge and ingenuity.

One day, just a week before the end of the month, one of the humans stumbled upon the guardian heading towards the rivers bed. Curiosity as to why he would leave the village there made him follow, but not before making sure the warriors in the village saw him slip by, which was foolish as there was someone tailing him anyways.

As he moved from tree to tree, the giant would look behind him, to make sure he wasn't being followed before continuing in his path. He wished to be alone to cultivate the plant that he found a seed a year or so ago.

Once at the river bed, the human slowly made his way to the giant that was kneeling down on the ground. He appeared to be looking at an unknown plant that the human did not recognize, it was green, shaped like a flower, almost like a weed.

But as he got closer, a blade stopped him from taking another step forward, following the iron blades edge, he saw that one of his disciples had tailed him and was stopping him from moving an inch, or else he would get hurt. The Guardian looked over his shoulder before returning to his plant.

"It is fine, you may stand down." The knight spoke to the warrior. Hearing his order, he retracted his blade and sheathed it safely. "Is there something that you need, human? Or did curiosity draw you towards me?" Though he spoke, the human did not understand, to which the 'disciple' became a translator to the human and the Knight.

"We've noticed that you've came here multiple times, we wanted to know what would be so important that you'd constantly visit this place."

"Ah... I wouldn't be surprised then. The villagers tend to leave me alone here, for I wish some rest from my constant patrols, leaving the young warriors to do my work for a bit. Would you two care to see what I'm cultivating?" He asked, which draw them to him to his left side.

The rivers bed was filled with green flowers that grew some ways down stream. It was honestly impressive that it took root in such a humid area.

"These are called Green Blossoms. It was terribly hard to find a seedling of such an old plant, that when I did found it I was shocked that it still survived. Just a reminder of an age long past. How... nostalgic." Such a feeling of longing felt from his words, that even the disciple had trouble to convey the words. "Would you care to try one? It is very bitter, but you'll feel refreshed for a while." He took one of the plants and offered to the human and Faunus.

With hesitation, they eventually put into their mouths and started to chewing on them. The warning beforehand did not convey on how bitter it was to eating the plant, but when they swallowed it, they indeed felt rather refreshed, almost like a minty feeling to it.

"Normally, you only see these plants annually, year by year so to speak, but with time and natural changes, they seem to be flourishing rather well. It makes me glad that, even after so much was lost, even a few specks of the past still persists."

"The past? How long have you roamed the land?" The human asked to which the guardian was silent for a while, before responding while turning his helment to look at him.

"It is hard to say, but I know that I've been alive for far longer than any human or Faunus. I have seen so much, yet not epiphany struck me yet. I've been in my journey for more than a hundred years, yet I am nowhere closer to know or even understand why I need to roam the land. Perhaps this is a kind of punishment for all of the sins that I've committed in my life or perhaps It's a journey to something greater. Or maybe, it is for me to see this world and somehow understand it, it is hard to say."

The human and Faunus didn't know what to say, this warrior roaming in a land for a 100 years? That should've been suffering enough, not being able to die with old age, or a miracle to people that seek eternal life, yet it sounds more like exile into their ears. Sins? Has he done something so horrible to be placed with such a curse? Is atonement really what he's going through? If so, then helping the Faunus would've lowered the sin, wouldn't it?

Out of pure curiosity, the human spoke up, wanting to know something.

"Tell me, Warrior that is covered by the mantle of night, why are you defending such animals of evil? Are you evil as well? An animal pretending to be human, is nothing more than a pet to exploit. Are you their pet, a Faunus as well?" He asked, wanting to understand why he was helping them. Was he human? Impossible in his eyes. Was he a Faunus? A possibility to approve.

"I defend them, because I don't see their animal traits. I see them as humans that are being hunted down for them being different in nature. What you see as evil, I see misunderstanding, they are not an animal pretending to be human, they ARE humans. The more you think of them as nothing more than animals, the more you are convinced that they are exactly as you see them.

I, on the other hand, see them as nothing more than humans. Their animal traits, their unknown nature, they can be ignored altogether, for their essense are the same as you and I. They are hunted by you and those creatures of darkness, the same creatures that hunt your kind as well, is there really such a difference between them and yourselves?" He asked the human for the answer, an answer that only had two outcomes, one where they renounce the Faunus of being humans beings and the other to accept them.

The leader of the four man squad thought to himself, besides the animal traits, there really wasn't much difference between them. If the Faunus didn't threw the first spear then they would've left them be... right?

No, his tribe would've hunted them until the last one of them were killed to ensure their safety, but the month that they spent here was almost like there was no difference between them. Was this part of the giant's plan? For him to show them that there wasn't any difference between the both races? But then, why was there a big difference between the two races and him? He kept saying that he was human and not a Faunus, but neither that kind nor the humans have ever saw his face.

"Are you truly human, guardian of the village? If so, why is there such a difference between you and I?" He asked, wanting to know how he attained such power.

"There is no difference between us, human. Be it size or power, there is no difference between you and me. I carry burdens just as you, still carry a desire to become better than what I was before and want to protect those that I promised to do so.

Set aside my size, set aside my power, set aside whatever doubts you towards what I am. Instead, take a moment to think for yourself, is this the kind of life you would build? Is the life of spilling blood into the earth what you desire? Do you wish to see a pile of dead bodies into the grass dyed crimson?" He returned a question as well, to which was translated back to him.

Is that what he wanted? Did he and his tribe want to do that? To be that blood thirsty? No, of course not. They were just afraid of these animals, why face an unknown enemy if they could eradicate it?

But that way of thinking... Is the guardian saying that this path that they have is wrong? Then if that is true, is there another way?

"I know my fair share of these thoughts, human. I have roamed enough to know such things. Sometimes, a bit of kindness can lead to great things, or it can lead to the greatest grief. It is up to you where you wish to offer such trust towards an enemy, as they can either accept it or betray you.

But know, that genocide will only bear the fruit of fear of the race that you so want to get rid of and then... that is when you should fear them instead. For the fury of a race, can be quite deadly." He spoke as the demons from Lost Izalith did not want throw the first sword, it was men that instilled such actions.

The human though well to the warning, and if he was in their place, being hunted by both the creatures of darkness and other humans, he would've seek revenge against them. The guardian stood up before slowly turning his head to see the surroundings, clanking as he turned left and right.

"Today is enough. I will return back to my rest, near my bonfire." He announced as he started moving back towards the village.

"W-would you min-!" He was cut short as the Faunus warrior blocked his view of the guardian.

"No. Do not bother the village guardian as he is resting there. That is the one rule that we keep, unless he allows us to sit next to him." The guard spoke with conviction towards the human.

"Why is that? Is it something just for him?" He asked, a little annoyed at the animal.

"Everyone of the warriors directed by him guard the village with the utmost attention, but even we have limits to how many hours we can stay awake, even with rotating shifts. He on the other hand, can go night and even days to patrol the village to make sure we are safe from the outside horrors. When he sits near his bonfire, we respect him for his selfless service and leave him to rest.

The village chief's brother, Lorth, almost broke this seven year tradition that we up held. We don't wish to bother our savior when he's already so much for us, and neither should you. As an act of respect, do not bother him as he's resting near his warm respite." He explained in a well spoken manner, which surprised the human again for their way of speaking. Perhaps, thanks to their interaction with the black warrior, their way of speaking became refined to the point that it was common sense to them, yet his tribe has yet to grasp such ways.

For now, he would do as ask and not bother the warrior. He too would want to be alone and rest when the day had been long and harduous, but the warrior did more than a day and that would be a heavy toll on anybody.

* * *

At the end of the month, true to his promise, the Knight was going to release them back into the world. However, seeing the possible danger that would come from them to reveal the village's location, the Guardian of the village made them commit an oath of silence.

"Humans of this land, you may return back to your homeland as promised, however, you must swear upon your life that you mustn't disclose this land's location. It is a peaceful land, it's inhabitants kind and prosperous. To defile this peace is to defile your own nature of seeking refuse from the forces outside." The one cloacked in darkness spoke to them with authority, while they were trying to understand him using one of the books provided by him as a means to spread his language to others, though Fenrir was there to help them understand him.

"We understand! Great one. We will not come back with ill intentions." One of them spoke from the rest, even though they still planned to return here at some time.

"I understand your peril of having a stable food supply and refuge. I have already scouted your camp beforehand, how you all lack food, therefore, we shall make a compromise, between human and Faunus." This caught their attention, even though they hated to rely on the animals.

"This village will supply your tribe with food and books with farming methods and edible plants for you to learn, although our iron tools and weapons are not allowed to be traded. This is to avoid fighting against your tribe in the future, in case you choose to invade us once more. However, this compromise will not be carried anymore in case you do try to invade us once more and only you four are allowed to come here, alone with nobody tailing you." He explained to them a solution to their food situation, even though they would not be able to use their iron tools or weapons for defense, they would at least be able to survive as long as they uphold this conditions.

This village had plenty of food to share, however, the guardian was worried that they would lose the abundance of food with so many mouths. But with the development of their farms, they were able to secure much more food than before and such excess would be a waste, so to counter this, establishing a trading route with the humans to exchange food and knowledge for not being invaded. It was a good deal, but the humans were not convinced.

"How do we know that you'll uphold your part of this transaction? For all we know, you might be waiting for us to come back to end us on the spot."

"If I wanted to kill you, I'd done so in the first day when you came. You're still alive today by the words of the village chief, Fenrir. All you have to do is trust our word, as we are trusting your own."

Despite the humans glaring at the giant with darkness, they rose their hand to have a handshake with him. The guardian of the village, slowly grabbed the humans hand and gently shook it.

"The deal is done. We'll provide you a cart for you to carry the food and books to your village. Uphold your end and we'll uphold ours." He gestured his disciples to bring the cart while also putting some books with his language and farming methods that were written down by the farmers and food supplies for the journey and village.

"...We'll come back every two months, with these supplies we can survive as normally. What of our slaves? Will they stay here?" He asked to him, which the Guardian responded with a tone of authority.

"This village is a haven to the Faunus. Any of their kind will be accepted here by Fenrir's wishes, hence why your slaves will remain here to serve the village and recuperate to what you have done to them."

The leader, the human that partook in the Green Blossom stepped forward and asked a question that made his fellow comrades give a look of disbelief.

"Would it be possible for me to stay here?" His tone was rather calm, despite the hostility that he emitted a month ago, his mind had one thought. If he stayed here and learned from this warrior then he would bring more than just a petty raid to the tribe. More than food, more than weapons, more than books! Experience and knowledge. This giant radiated more than pure power, he held such a sage demeanor that it could be enough to ignore his armored self.

"You wish to stay? How very odd of you, human. Normally, one would rather return home, than to stay in a place that he was held captive against his will." He spoke the truth, no one would rather stay in a place that they were held as a slave.

"Orthus! What are you saying!? Come back to the village with us, or else the village chief is going to be worried and angry that you aren't back with us." One of the humans spoke up, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the spear.

"..." Still he stood his ground. He wanted to learn, more than anything in this land. He wanted to learn what secrets that the black warrior held, wanted to know how else he could help in his tribe, wanted to know if he had the knowledge of the world! The old world that he spoke up from before.

"...That is a good look in your eyes, the eyes that crave knowledge. However, you cannot stay." The knight spoke up towards the young human, to which it was disheartening. "Not now that is. You should return home, make your relatives hearts be at ease, help them however you can to lessen their burden. Only after then, you may return here, hopefully it will be to tighten our ties deeper and blossom into a good relationship."

This was enough for the human named Orthus to brighten up. He gave the knight the same salute as the Faunus would give to him, a sign of respect that the guardian taught to the guards of the place as they grew in strength. This one action, one that imitated the Faunus, was the first step, even if the humans were disapproving of such act, Fenrir saw it as a point where the shaky fate of their kin was loosening, where such violence would be gone from their race.

"I'll be waiting for you... Orthus." The Knight spoke before turning around, his cape fluttering before returning back to his bonfire. The human named Orthus, felt as he received the guardians blessing, as if his soul grew lighter with the new path that he chose, but it was a thorny one where his people would not approve of such action, to the people that they thought killed their brother.

* * *

Three years had passed by since, the peace treaty by trade for both tribes had blossomed through multiple meetings, the main factor was when the village chief, father of Orthus decided to have a visit with his son to the village hidden beside a waterfall. As he saw the village, it was almost a shock at how developed they were above them, it was as his son had told him alongside their three other guards.

A place that was a haven for the Faunus, the animals that looked human, creatures that just imitated their kind. He saw how well equipped they were, with armors and weapons that surpassed them by an entire generation or even generations of learning. Clothes made of hemp and hides from animals that they've hunted through the years, homes as secure as they can be, abundant space to cultivate and walk about, abundant water supply and then... the main factor of the village itself. The dark giant that always keeps a watchful eye on the village, keeping it safe from hostiles and training them to protect themselves from the outside dangers. The guardian of the village.

He was as big as he'd imagine him to be, as strong as he was described, as mysterious as he looked and as wise as his son told him to be. The giant was resting near his bonfire as always, close to the gate to be the first to act when the beasts of the abyss decided to try their luck or when another human tribe wanted to pillage this peaceful land.

"Guardian of the village, it is good to see you again." Orthus spoke, his way of speaking improved with the help of the books and every visit that he could take to receive supplies. As such, their relationship had evolved to the same approval as the villagers.

"Another two months have passed? It seemed like only yesterday you were here, Orthus." The knight spoke, his voice as calming as before and as odd to hear as before, with three voices speaking in unison. Something that became more of a mystery than a staple onto the knight. He noticed the man next to him, he had a fur pelt around his hips, a necklace with fangs and claws of animals, mainly wolves and bears, hemp cloth on his feet, hands and forehead. He was also carrying a stone axe next to him. His body was built for battle, scars stretch around his exposed torso and face, but the years seem to have made it's toll onto him.

"Ah, it seems we have not met yet. By your attire, you must be Orthus father. He has spoken a great deal of your deeds, sir. Have a sit and take a moment to rest from the journey, it must've tired you out." He invited them to have a rest, there were some tree trunks already down in front of his, meaning that he had allowed people that have a moment of rest with him as well.

"..." Orthus father, Shalam, had learned this new language from his son and the trips that he took with the other villagers of his tribe, bits and pieces. Enough to understand him at least. Silently, he sat down, trying to get a feel at the giant, that has been named 'Guardian of the Faunus Village'. He looked like a warrior, had strange weapons on his possession, a strange black artifact hanging on his right hip that sometimes produced a soothing sound and most importantly, a left fist with a flame that only extinguished at his demand.

"Guardian, would you mind telling me one more of your stories? They are just so fascinating!" Orthus asked, as if his stories were much more prominent than his old mans. Interest, Shalam kept his ears open while taking in the heat of the flame. It was rather soothing.

"You wish more about an age long past? I do not mind to share it, however, do try to learn the lesson in them. Hmm..." He hummed to himself as he thought which story he would speak of, it took some time, but he would tell the story of a warrior in Drangleic.

"This story centers in an individual that was, by all means, the catalyst of the Iron King to his rise of power. An eastern warrior wielding a long and thin blade, a spirit wishing to challenge a strong opponent and received a respectful ending.

This is the story of Sir Alonne, warrior of the East and what many in that era to call the iron Kings closest aid. The Iron King, full of ambition and an iron will, took his subjects and conquered a kingdom for himself, but the lord of that new kingdom was short sighted, for ambition could take him so far. His story would've been ended at that moment, for he could not keep the kingdom safe, but then from the East came a warrior clad in eastern armor wielding a bewitch blade so powerful, that many spread rumors about which one controlled it, the blade or the warrior.

It is not known what desires the warrior had to come to such a kingdom, was it the potential that the king had or because a relationship they had as brother of arms, nobody knew, what they knew is that he put his desires apart to serve, this short sighted king. With wisdom, pride and strength, the lord was reborn into a new ruler, one that made his kingdom bloom.

With Alonne's help, the kingdoms warrior were trained in the art of the bows and slender blades, much more thinner than my own.

It isn't to say that the king was perfect, however. He was entranced by the flame and hired a pyromancer, a master of controlling fire, to which he was able to create fire with a will of its own.

The pyromancer adored his bullheaded king and was awarded a great ornamental Minotaur helm. The Minotaur, half man half bull, would come to symbolize the stubbornness and bestial strength of the king and his kingdom.

For with the aid of Sir Alonne, the king continued his ignorant ways and kept marching forward with stride and momentum, and to sustain his country, he would exploit his land for resources, to later become a land of poisonous air. Through adapting and pushing the slaves under his command, the kingdom thrived, becoming wealthy and well supplied with the abundant ores.

Through his thorough excavation for resources, the king found great relics of kingdoms long forgotten, and one held a message of grave importance, but blinded by his own achievements and ambition, he ignored it the warning from their failures. Rather he intended to greedy use their passing, and so when the scorching iron scepter was found... everything changed.

With a fires heat, you can create and destroy. It is one of the basic forms of energy, elementary lesson a pyromancer learns when they start, and the Iron King had all that he needed to revolutionize his kingdom. Smelting iron was trivial for him, there were no bounds on what he could make.

Iron melted, shifted and brought about his control, as if he himself held the forces of life and creation on his hands. The kingdoms guards wore iron armaments, hulking suits of iron armor and he even created his very own castle out of iron itself. Some legends say that he even attempted to create a dragon made of iron, a large lizard with wings that could breathe fire, if you do not know what a dragon is.

The Iron King held unparalleled power, none could stand in his way and any who would try, would be crushed under his might.

That is not to say that the king did not suffer troubles. The Undead... humanoid beings that could not die due to a curse placed by the gods themselves, were a threat to his kingdom. It is to say that he tried to heal the curse with his newfound power, and when it didn't give him results, he started to imprison them with hunting parties that hunted, not animals but the Undead.

Even with the hunts, the Undead grew day by day in numbers, and in a fit of rage, he created an iron coliseum, with the sole purpose to torture these unfortunate souls and killing them over and over and over by stamped of horses led by the Executioner, such was the punishment that the Iron King would give to those that opposed him.

When the Iron King's rule was at it's peak... his friend, Sir Alonne, walked away of the king. His distaste for his friends actions was unspoken.

Infuriated that his aid left him, he tracked down his old friend, seeing that Alonne took some loyal soldiers with him, in hopes to stop him and to leave him be, for he did not wish to fight him. But the king had grown strong and was able to reach him.

They fought each other, a hard battle fought with only their might, however... Sir Alonne, not wanting to die by the kings hands, stabbed himself, maintaining his honor in his death.

Though the king defeated him, he noticed a room nearby, heading inside, he saw something that etched into the mans heart. In that one room, he saw that his friend kept his old throne, a keepsake of when the king started in his journey.

Arrogance held true to the king, he lost his path and now, he had lost his friend and mentor. He failed to look back on his path, failed to take a moment to think... failed to keep a friend by his side.

When the king returned to his kingdom, he had brought Sir Alonne's suit in remembrance of his friend. The knights under him named themselves Alonne Knights, for they respected him more than they respected the king. With the help of Pyromancer, he became proficient in infusing life into a suit of armor.

It is hazy as to what happened to the King afterwards. Some say that he was smite down by his last creation, others say that the memory of his friend broke him more than he let on and with grieve he jumped into a sea of fire in a way to atone for his sin. Whatever is the case, that day, the Iron King was no more, and so was his kingdom."

Orthus father did not know what meant the words of king and lord, so he tried to ask his son to ask the guardian what it meant, but his son, was oogling the dark knight about such interesting story of an age long past, and trying to understand the meaning of the story.

"Such an interesting story! But, tell me oh good storyteller, what was the lesson to be learned here? I know that you said ambition and arrogance, but what are they?" Orthus asked, good questions that Shalam wanted to ask as well.

"Ambition is the feeling of wanting to do something grand, to achieve something. Arrogance is the attitude of superiority of another, as an example, on how your people see Faunus as beneath you." That last part made Orthus uncomfortable as it hit a little too close to home. The two years that he kept coming to the village, made him learn that there were really not much difference between the two races, apart from their animal traits that the Faunus had.

"Orthus, ask the guardian what it means to be a king, a lord and a kingdom." Shalam was interested in what it meant and so the son asked him, to which the knight was silent, contemplating if he should open his mouth. He then relented as it will happen someday.

"A lord, is a person that is superior than those that follow him, a leader, much like you, Orthus father, but in a larger scale than a village chief. A king, is the leader of a region that he claimed. He serves the people under him, hearing their woes and attempting to solve their problems. And the people under the king serve him, aid him in his ways.

But, do not think that a king is solely that. The Iron King, acted much like a tyrant, a person drunk of his own power and might. A king can either be kind and thoughtful or the definition of fear.

A kingdom, is the land that is called to wherever the king as claimed.

With kindness and thoughtfulness, a kingdom can develop in a positive way, earning the trust of his people and setting a good example to the next lord that would take your mantle. The problem, is that with that kind of mindset, the military might, the strength of guards will plummet as one only sees peace in his path. That would mean that they are often the subject of being raided.

With fear, a kingdom can become wealthy, strong in military might and plentiful of resources. No one would dare to attack a kingdom with such fierce guards, but the people become discontent, not wanting to help the king and so the king forces the people into becoming slaves into his vision of conquest. As wealthy as the king and his kingdom becomes, his subjects will no doubt try to kill such tyrant at some point with his bloodline in tow. Whoever claims the seat will be subject of the same treatment, even if they are kind, for the citizens have lost their trust in nobility and royalty."

There were more complicated words coming from the knight, but Shalam understood him well enough. There has to be a balance to rule the people, too kind and you're a prime target for other people to hunt you, too tyrant and the people will plot to exile or outright kill you in the spot. That is a good lesson to learn from such a large being that many claim to be a deity left behind.

"Well, I must've taken much of your time already. Feel free to see the village as you see fit, Shalam of the human tribe, there is food here for you to eat, water as clear as the shine of our blades and scenery that are only seen in this land. Do make a visit to Fenrir to talk about any subject that you need, I'm sure that he'd be happy to speak with you." He then returned his gaze to the fire, remaining silent.

"Come father! There is so much to see here!" Orthus learned much here and such wanted to show this old warrior this land filled with such serenity. The man followed his son, will silently greeting the Faunus that welcomed them, not with open arms, but as a sign of mutual respect, much appreciated for the humans.

He visited their farms, bountiful the harvest this season, their way of spacing out their crops had been imitated by them thanks to the books that were supplied with such knowledge.

Then it was the blacksmith, while the art was unknown on how to make such weaponry and tools by the orders of the Knight, it was still satisfying to see something that was nothing be formed into something useful. Greatly interesting the old man, as if these Faunus wielded the same power as that Iron King from the story he heard.

Next would be the arena, an area of practice for guards. Lorth, during these years, had steadily improving his combat ability and leadership skills, earning him a position as second of command alongside his brother Fenrir, when the guardian of the village was absent. Right now, he was training the new Faunus recruits that stumbled upon this land.

At first, the new Faunus were asked of their origins, where they've been, what were they doing before hand and such, while the knight would be the one to decide if the Faunus spoke the truth or not. Those that didn't... were met with swift cruelty, for he did not wish harm to come to the village. Yes, it was cruel by his part, but it was only in his hands the sins that he has committed, not their kin. A swift movement to not cause pain to the liar, a kind mercy in their eyes.

Their training was tough, tougher than what the humans did back home, as they were pushed to their limits. Lorth was training alongside them, while instructing them and yelling at them positive reinforcement. Their way of using their blades and other weapons gave the old village chief a good understanding at their standing at the moment, which meant that anyone that dared to attack the village would be swiftly taken down with might and finesse.

Next was the scenery that was home to the village, which was nothing to scoff at. They were breathtaking in by itself, with a rainbow sometimes appearing on the waterfall, thanks to the refraction of light on the water drops, the greenery of the trees, the fields and the tamed animals in the village. It was the perfect place to stay and it was only for the Faunus territory, but with their treaty the humans could visit them, learn from the guardian, learn from their books, learn to write and read and learn to see life in a different way.

"This place... is very much what I had in mind when we first started, son. I wish I could give you and the village this place, but we were late in finding it, the creatures of darkness had this place as their home a few years ago. I'm guessing that person over there took care of that problem and led the fleeing Faunus to this place to start a new life.

Such a strange and strong fellow... Experienced of many fights, knowledgeable of many things, wise of past occurrences and yet... he wishes to aid instead of conquer. Such low desire to claim, what could be his, is rather unheard of and yet I see the wisdom in his words. Thanks to him, our village was spared of famine and created a bridge to make amends with the Faunus.

It will take time before we can truly see each other as the same, we of old age see them as nothing more than labor and slaves. Son... you have been truly blessed to have survived this land. That Fenrir Faunus... I have to thank him for his kindness." Shalam said with a more relaxed demeanor as to when he came here. Orthus was happy that his father could relax, even if it was the first time in many years.

When the elder man entered Fenrir, the village chief of this place, he was surprised to find a man, not built to fight, but behind a desk with documents from events past, strange formulas and research that pointed towards Lorth's strange barrier that he unlocked.

"Ah, good afternoon. I apologize for the mess, I was just putting down some notes on my finds." Fenrir spoke as he neatly put the books on the side of his table while closing his personal notebook. "Welcome Orthus, it is so good to see you again. And you must be his father, Shalam correct? It is an honor to meet you, sir." He offered a handshake with the human, with little contempt, the man shook it in friendly terms before taking a look at his home.

It was rather well made, solid foundation and walls, some fur rugs on the floor, with some carpentry to fill the place and a bed to rest. The man looked in his mid thirties, build only to be served as labor, yet he was instead confined in his home to write down in parchments?

"What is it that you do here, chief Fenrir?" Shalam asked, curious as to why he would abstain from outside.

"The guardian had appointed me as a scholar, someone that seeks knowledge for the betterment of the village. It was also a necessity to write down our history for our next generation to come and learn from both our mistakes and our wins.

Though most of our wins when we established was thanks to our Savior. His strength and generous heart made us survive this treacherous land that wishes to kill our kind, but he appeared one day, resting in a bonfire much like he does today. That is not to say that we had our own share of achievements, hunting food, survive the weather, fighting against raiders when he deemed that we were ready to fight for ourselves.

And yet, I could not fight as the others, my body wasn't fit for such a task, hence he blessed me with another way of thinking, if a sword is not for me, then a piece of charcoal would be my weapon, and so I reside here, writing down and coming up with ways to imitate our benefactors powers, but so far I had not come close to the answer, just scrambles and loose theories." He explained with a content smile, this kind of life was comfortable to him and he very much enjoyed reading and writing down what he could.

The chief of the human tribe was rather interested in this scholar business that Fenrir was handed to. To record history and to search ways to improve older generations current housing and crops, to try to come close to the power that was rumored to be immense from the guardian, that would be something interesting to witness.

"Interesting... So even without a body to fight, there are other ways to use ones talents. This guardian of yours is truly wise to make such new jobs. Would you be okay if I sent some of our kind here to aid you in this scholar job of yours?" He asked in hopes that they could also learn and help the village.

"While I'd be delighted to have more hands, I'd have to consult with our Guardian to see if it is alright to do so. We have extra scholars here as well, each searching different branches to improve ourselves. No doubt that you thought that having scholars in your hands, would improve your odds to survive, no?" He replied with a knowing smile, which was to expect from someone that has been in this land learning from the guardian, he was quite sharp.

"Then do speak with the guardian, I'll be expecting good news, but will not be as disappointed if he refuses. Our tribe, despite not liking your kind, has started to see you as not as hostile as others of your kin. Thanks to the trading and respect that you give us with warm hospitality, our way of thinking has been steadily leaning favorably to this village."

"Ah, that is very good to hear. It warms my heart that our chains of hate are starting to crumble, for we wish to have a normal relationship with your kind as well, but it has been so very difficult." Fenrir said while moving to a new subject. "I know you are going to ask me, why the guardian does not wish to share our newfound weaponry, correct?" He asked before receiving a nod, he wanted to know why not share such things like the tools or weapons made here.

"I know the reason father, and it is very frightening." Orthus spoke up, to which the elder gave his son attention. "From the stories that he talks with me, he says that any tool can be a weapon and every weapon will be used to violence. He explained to me that war was inevitable and that by making sure not to give any of these tools and weapons, then the damage and bloodshed would be diminished, until the time we use them not against ourselves, but against the monsters in the dark."

"What is war?" Shalam asked intrigued of the word.

"A battle. Make it ideals or conquest or resources, like food or precious metals... or slaves, the battle is to take such things from the other. It is something ugly into my eyes, but as the Wise one said, it is inevitable. Hence he prohibited the trading of our iron tools and weapons. Armor was still okay, but even that was needed to convince the Guardian to trade these things with your tribe." Fenrir answered the question before opening another book, one depicting a tribe that was expunged from the map. "I trust you remember the Red Skins?"

"How could we not? Such a troublesome tribe that was only compromised with aggressive warriors. Their constant raids and bloodthirsty manners still echoed in the mind of my great-great-grandfather, before he passing away by retelling the story of their demise of a mysterious warrior."

"These raids that we speak of, they can be considered a war, only from a much smaller scale. That is the meaning of war, though this village has yet to do any of it, and we are not inclined to do so in the future. We have no need of it, since we have enough to self supply ourselves, except our food, somehow it is abundant in this village and sometimes we have excess of it, which we trade to your tribe."

"I see... So war is raids, but larger versions of it." Shalam thought to himself before standing up. "Today has been a good day, Chief Fenrir. I have learned quite a bit from my time here."

"Ah, leaving so soon? I understand, you just wanted to pass the time until the cart was ready. I was my pleasure to speak with you, sir." He offered a handshake, however Shalam could only be apprehensive to this gesture. Orthus seeing this, took the chance to shake Fenrir's hand by his fathers part. "We still have a long road then, sir."

"Hmm..." He replied before leaving with his son in tow. Such manners, such intelligence, such sharpness. This village... it is much more than a bountiful piece of land, it is a league apart from their tribe. Focusing more on knowledge and research, strengthening their forces through rough training, learning everything that the Guardian can teach them, restricting things that might affect the future and trying to establish good relationships with the tribes to ensure their safety.

Yes... this village is the truest definition of looking into the future for survival and restricting the nearby tribes from killing each other with their tools. The wise village of the waterfall, granted by the sage and Guardian clad in armor as sturdy as a tree truck and as black as the night itself.


	7. Faunus Village (III)

Through the next decade, the vilage has once more evolved, with the adding of more Faunus that had been given by Shalam's tribe as they 'found' them from other raiding tribes as a sign of peace between the village and tribe.

Well... Shalam's tribe was no more a tribe, it had become a village of it's own. With the people that were sent to become scholars over the years, they became much more refined in their minds and learned a great deal from the village in the waterfall. With their expanded knowledge, they were able to renovate their homes similar to the Faunus village, providing much better accommodations than before.

Each scholar had said the same thing as they returned back to their original homes. "This is not a home to us. This is something we intend to change." When they were in the Faunus village, they were accustomed to sleep in homes that offered security, guards that gave a feeling of safety, food that was on their table, a warm bed to sleep in and materials for them to experiment and write down their findings.

At the end of the ninth year, Orthus succeed the position of village chief from Shalam, and his father focused more in learning to write and read from the books that the Faunus Village gave to them. Other tribes started to see this change in Orthus village and asked if they could also establish trading routes with them. It was there that the language of the divine tongue was then incorporated with the rest of the tribes that traded with each other around the area. His tongue was easy to understand with some practice and much more convenient to use in order to talk with each other.

Many asked the bright scholars where they've attained their knowledge, some more threatening than others. They refused to share where the Village of Knowledge is situated, fearing that they might break the long and respectful oath that they've swore. Still, they were shared between the tribes in order to teach and improve their defenses and homes.

The trade of tools and weapons was still banned from the Faunus Village, more so than ever before. As villages are form and more people join them, more is the need to have tools at their disposal, and more the need is for armaments for the would be guards. Still, they kept a close relationship with Orthus' village, to the point that humans wished to stay in the village.

It was accepted from the Guardian, as long as if they did the oath of silence to not reveal their location. Truly, a hidden village from prying eyes, their population from a measly 7 to 10 families, grew to an astounding of 30 families with many children that have steadily grew with education and training. With humans now in their ranks, they have now 40 families in the village, meaning manual labor had been eased and the number of people to feed increased tremendously. Still, the land was expanded for their convenience, having so a steady supply of farmland to feed the population.

Some humans were drawn to the Faunus, not in indifference, but in a romantic sense. They were shunned for having such thoughts, yet they still carried out their sin and mated with what they called in the past 'animals'. This bloomed a new hybrid, a mix between human and Faunus. This case was apart with Fenrir, where he had come to an age of finding a woman to tie down before his prime started to decay. Luck was on his side as a human woman seemed to take his fancy and in these years that passed, they had made a small female cub, the first of their kind.

From the beginning, the baby was treated poorly. Avoided by humans, and Faunus were disturbed that such a thing could actually be possible. The female cub grew up with being called names from other kids and ignored by adults, making her act as a tomboy to get attention by them.

Except for one being, the Guardian of the village.

"Hey! I'm back!" Delilah yelled from afar, as she ran towards the Guardian. 9 years old and full of energy that she couldn't spend with others, because they were mean with her. So, she turned her attention to the one being that was able to unify both human and Faunus through his actions alone.

He was human looking, but he wasn't mean. He wasn't Faunus, but he had their heart. He was much more than them, yet refused to be that. An open minded individual that didn't care of race or gender, just a gentle giant that wished for the village to be at peace.

The knight saw her, she looked a little roughed up, with her clothes being a bit dirty.

"Did you had another fight?" He asked, knowing that she had fights every now and then.

"N-no! I didn't fought! I simply fell..." She tried to hide it to not worry the giant, again. Yet she had a tell when she lied, she would tap her left foot on the ground while avoiding eye contact.

"Delilah, I know when you're lying. It must be hard for you, young one." He spoke, once more feeling uneasy saying those last two words again. His memories from all those decades were still vividly present in his mind. How that one little girl sacrificed her life to 'save' him from being hurt.

"I'm used to it, Knighty." She giggled at him shaking his head. One day, he said that he was like a Knight from his memory, and such the child of Fenrir started to call him Knighty as a nickname from a very young age, since he never told them his name, nor that he has one, not anymore.

"You truly enjoy to call me as such, don't you Delilah?" He asked as he kept himself in place near his bonfire as he has done so in all these years. She nodded her head with a big smile on her face since talking with him was fun. He told her many stories, ones filled with honor to ones that were sad, but the main point was that he always had a ear open for her to talk her problems.

"Hey, hey! When do you think I can train with Uncle Lorth? He keeps saying that I'm too young and that I shouldn't need to join, since it was a mans job to do it. Could you maybe... talk it over with him? My dad says that if Uncle Lorth is okay then he's okay."

"Indeed, you are much too young at the moment to train, however once you are of age, I'll speak with him to start training you. Views of gender mean nothing as long as you are useful in anyway you think you can be." He reassured her, making her jump towards his armored left arm and hugging it.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! Knighty!" She said, hopping in place with joy. This scene was adorable to anyone looking from afar. "I'm gonna go tell dad and uncle Lorth what you just said right now! Oh, he's gonna feel so embarrassed! I'll be right back!" With a bubbly personality like hers, running was part of her nature, running from one point to another. Now that she was gone, the guardian of the village was now thinking of more pressing matters.

Despite the better armament of their guards, the Guardian didn't felt too reassured with their current strength. The guards were still in their prime, but if it meant fighting the creatures of darkness, then they would need two to three people at most to fight a single one of them, two at least if they were talented.

Somehow, the people were so much fragile than the ones he has known through the last age. An ominous question loomed over his mind, has this new world made the humans more brittle than before? Dropping them in such a savage place was not unusual for a hollow, but these were truly humans and animal people. There was no certainty that their ability to survive was to this extent.

A thought came into his mind, one where Fenrir was researching as well in all these years, the strange burst of strength that Lorth was able to demonstrate all those years ago. He had noticed a few individuals that were like him although different at the same time, they had the strange aura like his but shone in different colors, with barriers that varied in durability. For a second when they should've gotten damaged, the barrier would activate and when not activated, their wounds seem to heal on their own.

He asked himself the question, where did this strange power came from? He wrapped his head on it with Fenrir for all these years, attempting to unveil such strange occurrence, until it hit him one day.

"What if this strange power, this colorful aura, is actually their soul awakened?" Such a thought in the old world would've been shunned, yet it was not out of the question. If it were that, then that means that they can actually understand and nurture this latent power, then their chances of survival would greatly increase. The question now, is how to unlock such potential from their bodies.

Unlike the effects of Unleash Magic from his time in Drangleic, this strange power seemed permanent for the people that were able to be granted such strength. Even after discussing the topic with the people, mainly those from the 'Disciples of the Sword' that have it unlocked with the Leader of the guards, he only got told that they simply got it one day. As he prodded deeper on the topic, it was revealed that the day that they got it, was when they were in a life or death situation or when Lorth seemed to unlock it while fighting the Knight.

As much as a big clue as that was, he didn't want to put the village people in such a dire state. So in the coming months, the Knight would write down his findings in a notebook that he fashioned, attempting to unveil the secret that they possessed. As if one of his souls, the one seeped with darkness, took a shine at such a prospect to understand such strange occurrence.

It was when he was looking at his flame, the essence that shone within his soul, that it made sense to him. What if the soul of an awakened one, could awaken the other?

He who took the souls of hollows to grow stronger, he who manipulate twisted souls to gather spells and weaponry through the help of others and he understood that to a deep level how magic and the soul were one and the same.

So... how can one coerce the soul of another to awaken? It was a simple answer to a hard solution. A new spell needed to be made, one where no catalyst was needed, one just needed their soul to awaken the other. It had to be one where warriors that have already awakened their soul could use on others. And such, with much effort and many, many theories written down, he had produced it. A spell that that awakened the soul of a person, elevating them to new heights. The catch was... It was no ordinary spell. It was more akin to an oath, a prayer that needed the power of a soul to another to wake up.

The body needs to be tempered, the mind needs to be resolute and the will must be determined for it to work. No matter if the person they want to awaken, they must first be able to have these. Each soul, is different from another, some more powerful than others, which means each person is different to another in their awakening.

However, he had no idea if this oath worked. The Guardian, has yet to test it to anyone, fearing that they might die in his hands. Although, he wants to see if his effort with Fenrir would bear fruits and how well could he restrict the use of such spell. He knew that such power would disrupt this world inhabitants, to give such a thing would be convicting them for more bloodshed, even more so than before.

"This decision... must I take it now? I am tired, yet I cannot rest. I wish to slumber, yet I am unable to. How... very odd. Perhaps my tasks have become so repetitive that I no longer see what a 'normal' human being experiences... Hmm... mayhaps, I should rinse my body in order to clear my mind before making a decision. That would be for the best for now." He mumbled to himself as he stood up from the bonfire, leaving it alone for now and entered the riverbed as he has done so in the past.

Green Blossoms were spread around the water, they also reached the forest as the land was an extension from their own body. The sound of the waterfall could be heard rather well, it was not thundering, but the sound was strong enough to feel it. The water wasn't chilled to the touch, however it was cold enough for anyone to have second thoughts, since it was so close to the source. The villagers enjoy quite a bit to bathe in the river, specially the children, when they could. Today, it was their Guardians first time, and nobody would be there to see him, not that he would stay there for long.

He began taking off of his helmet, setting it down next to a rock, just at the side of the waterfall. He began taking off his torso armor and gauntlets, his flame retreated onto his left hand, resting in the inner body with the ominous energy to protect it from the water. There with just his torso and head exposed, the Knight had dipped his head onto the falling water, washing away sweat and blood.

His midnight hair fell down from his head thanks to the water. His body, tempered from multiple battles and badly scarred, gleamed as he retracted back. He did so once more, to wash away any lingering thoughts that managed to stay on his mind, scrubbing his face with his own hands. Retracting once more, the warrior took a step back to breathe from his Undead lungs and looked at he scenery once more. It was truly a beautiful place, one where peace was fleeting. He heard the sound of shuffling and when he turned his head, Delilah was there, hiding behind the truck of a small tree, looking at him with a surprised expression.

"W-who might you be, stranger? This land is only permitted by the Guardian." She asked, both afraid and curious about this new being that was indulging at the waterfall next to their village.

"You would recognize me not, young one? I am no surprised, since I've always wore my armor." He spoke a familiar voice to her, his eyes shone a kind expression with amber eyes burning a beautiful bright orange color. The shock on her face spoke volumes, yet she needed to confirm it with this person.

"K-Knighty?" She asked to which he nodded to her. This was a day that nobody expected, especially to the daughter of the village chief. Here, in front of her, she had found out the identity of the Guardian without his dark shell, one where everyone in the village ever dreamed to witness even once, and here he was, for the first time shed from any hard material.

"I suppose this is the first time you've saw me without my armor. Although I wished for nobody to see my shame, one cannot seem to escape such wants in their life." He spoke as he began to put his armor back on. Piece by piece he put together, while Delilah didn't know to respond to such event. "You must've been looking for me, as I usually stay next to my fire, did you not?"

"Y-yes! I knew that you'd probably either be in the village or here. B-but I never expected to see you, l-like that." She said before putting her hands on her face embarrassingly.

"Yes... and now because of that, I have a favor to ask of thee." He put his helmet under his arm and knelt in front of the small Faunus girl, his scarred face was close to hers, just a step or two away from her. "Would you promise to not speak of this to the village?"

"W-why? I bet everyone would be happy to finally see the real you!" She tried to reassure him that everyone would be happy to see his face and such, but he shook his head.

"I am no fool when it comes to the affairs of the village, although in these last 20 years their relationships with humans has steadily become better, they still harbor a distaste to them. I know that this might be foolish on my part, but as I keep myself hidden, then their relationships will continue to prosper. Even if I were to say that I am a human, they'd say that I am much more than that, and if they ever saw the true me, I am certain that their bonds would rupture and all the work that your father has done to break such ideals would be to waste.

Thus, I keep myself hidden. It is a small price, but if this helps, no matter how little, in your fathers golden heart to reach the humans, then it is more than enough to me. But for that to happen, I ask you, keep this a secret from anyone. Just between you and me, okay?" He asked to which Delilah gave a smile, a bittersweet one.

"A secret between Delilah and Knighty? I'm very happy, but why does it feel so..." He couldn't find the words, but didn't like how their Guardian had chosen such a fate. It was for the good of the village, but she didn't like it. She was happy that she could share something with him though. A secret between them... Not many could ever accomplish such a thing.


End file.
